


Beyond the Mist

by DiaDuitCluaiste



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Arthurian, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Family, Humor, Legends, Multi, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaDuitCluaiste/pseuds/DiaDuitCluaiste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin meets a mysterious and magical woman. Is she friend or foe? Does she know more about Merlin and Arthur's futures than she's letting on? </p><p>[Terrible summary but I don't want to give anything away. A T for now, may become an M later. Themes: adventure, relationships, mystery, legend and some light humour. Bear with me.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Ally

Chapter 1 – A New Ally

Merlin tottered unsteadily along the castle corridors. His arms were piled high with all sorts: armour, cloaks, clothes, shoes, a sword, and a fresh scroll of parchment. So high was his pile that he could hardly see over it to stop himself crashing hither and thither, unsettling several probably priceless ornaments from their places along the way. He was on an errand for King Arthur, well, multiple errands actually. He was probably forgetting one or two of them, but he cared very little. It was only mid-afternoon, yet he was on the verge of collapse. The Lammas Day Festival was fast approaching and Camelot was buzzing with activities and preparations of every sort. This, of course, meant that Arthur was far more stressed than usual, leading to a compensatory heap of work for Merlin. It was unfortunate, and more than a little unfair, but by now he was used to it.

Lugging his small mountain up the final flight of stairs, Merlin turned the corner sharply only to see the parchment fly from his arms and drift mockingly to the floor. He grumbled in annoyance and looked around. Nobody was about and so Merlin took the opportunity to summon the paper silently with a simple spell. It zoomed up to meet him and he grabbed it with a smile of satisfaction, pressing it to the side of his bundle with his thumb. He walked more steadily as he reached the king's chambers and, reversing through the leaned-over door, which he had taken care to leave so when he left earlier, entered the room with relief. Being sure not to squash the parchment, Merlin plonked the rest onto the wooden table and strode over to the desk, flinging the paper into Arthur's face.

The king looked up.

"Was that necessary?"

Merlin paused, already halfway back, looking his friend up and down. "Absolutely," he answered, a good-humoured edge to his tone. Arthur huffed slightly and looked back down, leaving Merlin to sort through the mess he'd left on the table.

"Did you polish my armour?"

"Yes."

"Shine my boots?"

"Yes."

"Wash my clothes?"

"Yes."

"Sharpen my sword?"

"Yes."

"Mend my cloak?"

"Yes."

"Prepare my horse for the hunt?"

"Ye-" Merlin stopped himself and cringed. Drat it. He knew that there was something he'd forgotten. Arthur sighed and leant back in his chair.

"And you were so close too," he taunted his manservant. Merlin clenched his teeth, and controlled the urge to roll his eyes by folding the shirt in front of him. The king looked down at his papers again, muttering. "Utterly useless."

Merlin was about to make a snap comment when a voice echoed through his mind.

"Emrys." He froze. It wasn't a familiar voice, but it was a familiar name and a familiar sensation - the whispers that tickled and resonated. As if driven by some greater force, Merlin found himself being drawn to the window by the fireplace. He was fairly sure that Arthur was addressing him, but he wasn't listening.

The voice sounded again, "Emrys." Merlin looked through the glass panes of the window, almost in fear of what was calling for him. As soon as the courtyard was visible he saw who he was looking for. Directly in the centre of the square stood an emerald-cloaked figure. The hood was up, but from the build, Merlin would've thought it to be a woman. She, if it was a she, stood alone, surrounded by the daily activities of the town's people. They hardly noticed her as they carted things to-and-fro, despite the fact that she was probably in their way. A child in the arms of his mother watched her curiously as he was carried across the courtyard, but that was all the attention that she heralded.

"Come to me," she said - he had been right; it was definitely a woman, perhaps even a girl. Merlin watched her. She made no move, but her cloak danced gracefully in the breeze.

"Merlin?" He snapped from his trance and turned quickly to his left.

"What?"

Arthur stood a few feet away, hands on hips and eyebrow raised. "Were you listening at all?" the king asked. Shaking his head a little experimentally, Merlin gave Arthur his best innocent-shock expression.

"Of course! I'll... go and get your horse ready right now," Merlin replied. Whether or not that had been the topic of conversation, Arthur made no comment. He simply watched in bemusement as Merlin pulled away from the window and left the room quickly, almost running down the corridor.

He had no idea why he was so keen to meet this stranger. He had no idea what was compelling him to run faster, but he knew no bad could come of it. After all, they would be in the middle of the courtyard; she wouldn't dare try any funny business. He reached the square within a matter of minutes. Pausing briefly at the door, Merlin advanced towards her, attempting to seem more sure of himself than he was actually feeling. He stopped a few feet away from her.

"Who are you?" he asked aloud. He was still unable to see beneath her hood, but he could see now that she was several inches shorter than him and of a very fragile build.

"Let us not speak here," she answered him without speaking. "Nobody can be trusted."

"What does it matter if we aren't using our voices?" Merlin retorted, opting to communicate with her silently. A laugh echoed through his mind and he flinched.

"More have the ability to hear us than you might expect, you of all people should know that."

He narrowed his eyes briefly before nodding. From afar it must have looked like an odd, wordless exchange and Merlin looked around cautiously; it wouldn't do to have people being suspicious. Why he trusted her he was not yet sure. She had Magic, and she seemed harmless enough. She had sought him out by the name very few, such as the Druids, knew him by. Was that enough?

He indicated to the steps down which he had just descended. She bowed her head and they walked side-by-side into the castle. He led them immediately to Gaius's chambers and straight into his room. Still a little wary of her, Merlin put himself between her and the door.

"Who are you?" he repeated. This time, she answered him aloud.

"Your race knows me by the name Luned."

Something in Merlin's mind whirred in recognition, but he thought nothing of it.

"My race?" he questioned as his heart skipped a beat. "You're not human?"

"No."

"Then what are you?"

The girl pulled back her hood. "Take a wild guess." She smirked knowingly as Merlin studied her with his mouth wide open. Her skin was as pale as snow, almost translucent, and her sparkling emerald eyes stood out against her complexion. Her hair was a rich chocolate colour and it fell in loose curls down her back. She couldn't have been older than her early twenties, but there was something ethereal about her youth; she was beautiful, without a doubt. A waxing moon was inked in dark blue on her forehead, marking her as a priestess of the Old Religion. But that wasn't what he was staring at. From beneath her mane of hair poked the pointed tops of her ears.

"You're an Elf?" Merlin whispered.

"I am Iellwen, priestess of Emhain Abhlach, heir to Lady Maerwen of the Island, and gifted with the Sight," she answered. "I was sent to you by the Morrígan, to assist you in preventing the downfall of Arthur, Father of Albion and the Once and Future King." Merlin snorted. He was overwhelmed by all he had been told and was feeling slightly dizzy, but the last sentence had made him laugh.

"I don't need any help, thanks. I've been doing this for years."

"Alone?" The question had seemed patronising, but Merlin could do nothing but answer honestly.

"No," he said reluctantly. They fell silent as she gazed at him softly.

"Don't hate me, Emrys. I wish not to interfere, but to be of assistance when you need it."

Merlin paused. He didn't like that this 'Morrígan' seemed to think that he needed help doing what he was destined to do, but the priestess was looking at him in such a way that he felt weak at the knees. Had he always had a weakness for women with Magic? Perhaps. It certainly seemed that way now.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" he finally asked. She reached inside her cloak and pulled out a pointed crystal on a string.

"This crystal clouds when a lie is told," she explained, holding it up in-between them, "for instance: do you think of me as beautiful?"

"No," Merlin snapped instantly. Promptly, the crystal filled with a cloud of smoke and he cringed. Damn. He'd known the moment he had said it that he should have said nothing. She grinned.

"In all fairness, my being an Elf is probably cheating."

Merlin narrowed his eyes, more out of embarrassment than anger, and took the crystal from her hand. He held it up.

"Is everything you say about yourself true?"

"Yes," she answered. The crystal stayed clear.

"Do you mean any harm to me or the people of Camelot?"

"No." The crystal didn't cloud. Merlin frowned. Perhaps she was to be trusted.

But he continued with his questions still.

"Do you swear to protect Arthur with your life?"

"Yes." The crystal stayed clear.

"Will you do all you can to assist me?"

"Yes." The crystal didn't change.

"Will you ever willingly turn against Camelot or its people?"

"No." Nothing happened.

"Do you think I'm handsome?"

"No." This time, the crystal fogged up. Merlin laughed and he was sure that she would have blushed, had she not been an Elf. "That was unfair."

"It was payback," he replied.

"All right, fair enough," she sighed. They looked into each other's eyes and laughed.

"We could have so much fun with this."

She shook her head with a grin, and took it from his hands. "It's not meant to be for play," she answered, attempting to sound as if she was scolding him, but only achieving sounding highly amused. They fell silent and Merlin glanced down at his feet, then back up into his new friend's eyes. He was surprised to see the priestess watching him with a kind of wistful sadness – why was she sad?

"Why do I feel like I've known you all my life?"

"Destiny."


	2. The Note

Chapter 2 – The Note

Arthur strode across the courtyard with an angry purpose, heading straight towards Merlin, who was humming along at a leisurely pace, unknowingly towards his furious master.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. The young warlock looked up in surprise and froze. The king stopped before him. "Did you prepare my horse?"

Merlin cursed, "Argh, I knew I'd forgotten something."

"That was what you left to do!" Arthur cried in exasperation.

"I got lost," Merlin said pathetically. He watched as the king had to physically refrain from lashing out.

"Lost?! You-" Arthur stopped himself and gritted his teeth. "Just go and get the horse. The hunt leaves in _five_ minutes."

"Five? But-"

"Merlin!" Strongly sensing that Arthur was in a foul mood, the manservant hurried around to the royal stables and fetched one of the lither hunting horses and saddled it without hesitation. Jogging back around to the courtyard, with the tawny horse at a trot behind him, Merlin returned to his master. Without another word, Arthur took the reins grumpily and mounted, immediately turning to the hunting party and signalling for them to leave.

The party was a fairly small one: only Arthur and his most trusted men, including Merlin, were going. The king had announced that it was a private hunt, one to celebrate the harvest with friends, and only friends. But it wasn't at all. Only those going knew the real story. Arthur had received a tip off from a trusted spy that there had been a rumour of a rebel group settling on the outskirts of Camelot. Usually, the Camelot Guard would have been sent to get rid of them, but these weren't any old rebels, these were assassins. And the name of one assassin had alarmed Arthur greatly: the notorious 'Barathon the Unseen'. He'd never been captured, he'd never been caught, he'd never ever been so much as seen – hence the name – and now he was heading for Camelot.

Arthur would never admit it, but he was clearly terrified. If this man meant to kill him, he would. Their only hope would be to find him before he found them, and that was no easy feat. Yet still they travelled straight into iron claws of the danger, or so they thought. It was nearing sunset when they arrived in a suitable glade.

"We'll set up camp here," Arthur said, dismounting and tying the bridle of his horse to the branch of a tree, nearest to the grass. The others followed suit and Merlin began setting up a camp fire in the centre. They spent the rest of the evening in a close circle, trying to keep themselves warm. Arthur decided that they should keep two people on watch at a time, and swap over every two hours. He then volunteered himself and Merlin for the first watch and the others quickly fell asleep.

Sitting at opposite ends of the glade, about ten or fifteen metres away from each other, the two men turned to their own silent thoughts. Fifteen minutes passed before Merlin heard a gentle whisper.

"Emrys." He turned to the trees on his right and, only a metre or so away, stood the elven priestess. He glanced around to Arthur, who hadn't seemed to notice her.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin hissed.

"It's my duty to protect you and Arthur."

"You can't let him see you."

She smiled from beneath her hood. "He won't," she replied. "Only those with Magic can see me now. I've used an enchantment."

"Can't he hear you?" At this question, she turned her gaze to Arthur, and so Merlin followed suit. The king was watching him with a bemused expression on his face.

"Were you talking to yourself?"

"Yes," Merlin answered, knowing that any other reply would be pointless.

"Right," Arthur said slowly. "There's not a day that goes by when I don't worry about you."

"Well, it's nice to know you think about me," Merlin jibed.

Arthur snorted, "Don't look so pleased with yourself." His manservant only smirked at him. The king rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the forest around them.

Merlin turned back to Iellwen.

"Just go. I don't need you."

She paused. For a moment he thought she was about to accept his advice.

"Where are you going?"

Merlin groaned and rubbed his eyes despairingly, "We're trying to find a camp of assassins heading for Camelot. One of them is a particular threat and Arthur wants to get rid of him."

"Name?"

"Barathon, the Unseen."

Iellwen's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes made her look suddenly paralysed with fear.

When she spoke, it was a hushed, urgent whisper.

"Turn back."

"What?" Merlin cried. He glanced to Arthur and then hissed. "Why?"

"You _must_ turn back. It does not matter why. You will all be in grave danger if you continue."

"We have to get to him first, if he wants to kill Arthur-"

"Arthur?" the priestess interrupted incredulously. " _Arthur_? He isn't looking for Arthur." Merlin blinked in surprise.

"Then who _is_ he looking for?"

"That does not matter. What matters is that you leave as soon as possible, unharmed," she urged.

"Arthur will never turn around." Merlin insisted.

"He must."

"He _won't_."

Iellwen glared at the young man before her and seemed on the verge of retorting when a twig snapped from behind Merlin and they both looked up into Arthur's bemused gaze.

"Who are you talking to?" the king asked, half amused, half concerned.

"No one," Merlin replied quickly.

"I get the feeling you're lying to me."

"There's no one out there. How can I be lying to you?" the king narrowed his eyes and scanned the forest. "See. No one." Eventually Arthur shot one last glare at his manservant and moved hesitantly back to his own watch post.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the elven priestess, expecting to find her unmoved, but instead, she was gone.

XXX

Morning brought with it a light film of constant drizzle – the kind of rain that was most irritating to the uncloaked traveller. Merlin expected to see the mysterious priestess lurking nearby, waiting to persuade them to turn back, but to his surprise – and, if he were honest, disappointment – she was nowhere to be seen. The party travelled onwards swiftly and soon reached the area that was said to be the camp of the assassins. They arrived mid-morning at an open, well-used glade; it was the perfect place for a camp, but it was empty, with the exception of one object: a letter, set on a tree stump in the middle. A stone lay on top of it and Arthur removed this as he picked the parchment up.

He frowned at the message on the page and then passed it to Merlin.

"Can you read this?" he asked, watching the young man expectantly. Merlin looked at the letter. Upon it was a single line of writing, but it was in a language that the manservant couldn't understand, nor had ever even seen before. He shook his head as he reread the characters in front of him. "Perhaps Gaius will know."

Merlin looked up eagerly, "Does this mean we're going back to Camelot?"

"No."

In reality, it did. They spent the rest of the day searching the furthest borders and most places of camp to no avail. By the time they reached Camelot the following day, the rain had really set in and the king, his servant, and his knights returned home wet through to the bone and in bad tempers. Merlin trudged back to the physician's quarters miserably after seeing Arthur to bed and putting everything in order, hoping to find Gaius waiting for him and his dinner on the table. Instead, he found something quite different. Whether it was better or worse, he was too tired to decide.


	3. The Illness of King Arthur

Chapter 3 – The Illness of King Arthur

Slamming the door and letting his head hang wearily in the silence that greeted him, Merlin almost jumped out of his skin as a voice welcomed him.

“You took my advice.” The young man’s head snapped up and, sure enough, the elven priestess was sitting at the table, as if she had been waiting for his arrival for many hours.

“We didn’t find him,” Merlin retorted with a slow snappishness, approaching her grumpily.

“Of course you didn’t,” Iellwen snorted. “He’s called ‘Barathon the Unseen’ for a reason.” He watched her carefully. He was sure he saw a flash of glad relief, and he was sure that she saw that he saw. She coughed, for the first time since they had met seeming a little awkward, and pushed the plate she had in front of her across the table towards him. “Chicken?”

As much as Merlin was still irritated with the priestess for her previous interference, he couldn’t resist the temptation of the steaming meal put before him. He sat down, thanking her with his usual courtesy, and he began to eat.

“I hope I didn’t cause you any offense when I spoke in the forest,” she said after watching him for a few minutes. When he shook his head – his mouth being full at the time – she continued carefully. “I only wanted to prevent a terrible misunderstanding.” Merlin paused.

“What misunderstanding?”

The priestess gave him a small smile and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. Merlin watched her for a moment as she looked down at her hands. Again he saw the same sadness he had seen during their first encounter. It was resigned, yet hopeful – he didn’t understand. And what did she have to do with this Barathon? Was he related to the misunderstanding she had mentioned? Merlin frowned thoughtfully.

“We found a note in the woods,” he said. Iellwen didn’t look in the least bit interested or surprised.

“Oh?” she replied half-heartedly.

“Hm, but we couldn’t read it,” he continued, turning around to search for it in his bag. “It was in a strange language.”

“It’s Elvish.” Merlin’s head snapped back around and to his amazement, the priestess had in her hand the note he had been looking for. No wonder she hadn’t seemed surprised.

“How-” he started. She only smirked briefly before regarding the message with a sudden seriousness.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Iellwen said firmly, folding the parchment up and placing it on the table in front of her.

“What does it say?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

Merlin watched the priestess and set down his cutlery purposefully.

“Does it concern you?” he asked. Annoyance flickered in Iellwen’s eyes and she stood up as if Merlin had slighted her in some way.

“You’re tired. Sleep.” With that final comment the elven priestess swept out of the room, turning up her hood and not looking back. Merlin did nothing. How bizarre.

XXX

The next morning, Merlin talked over his encounter with the priestess Iellwen, the expedition to Camelot’s borders and the incidents of the previous evening with Gaius. The physician agreed with him – Iellwen’s behaviour was certainly strange. Unfortunately he couldn’t shed any light on the contents of the note, but promised to find a book on Elvish that he was sure lurked somewhere in his chambers. With thoughts of Iellwen still at the forefront of his mind, Merlin set off for Arthur’s chambers.

He was still so confused. Her duty was to assist Merlin and she had seemed so confident of it when they first met, but ever since she had heard Barathon’s name she had become distant and distracted. It _must_ be him – he _must_ have a connection to her that was somehow disturbing. How Merlin was to uncover this connection, he hadn’t a clue. Knowing that he had reached a dead end for the time being, he turned his attention to Arthur.

The king had requested that Merlin leave him to lie in for an extra hour to recover his strength. Now, as the young manservant entered Arthur’s chambers, Merlin was hit with the sudden feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He approached the bed quickly and his heart dropped to his stomach. The king was shivering violently in his sleep, sweat running rapidly from his face and chest. He had caught a fever.

Within fifteen minutes Merlin had brought Gaius to the king and Sir Leon was already organising the knights in Arthur’s absence. The physician could recommend nothing but bed rest and plenty of fluids and so he left Merlin alone. The young manservant sat and waited. There were no chores left to do. He had finished them all by mid-morning. Arthur hadn’t woken up yet and the only visits he had received were regular check-ups from the knights to ask about his condition.

By evening Merlin was almost witless. Arthur had only woken once and even then it was just ten minutes before he fell back to sleep. He refused the water that Merlin offered him and, when his servant persisted, the ailing king lost his temper and poured the water over Merlin’s head instead. He seemed to be improving a little, but Merlin was no physician.

A knock resonated around the room and Merlin started from his seat beside the king’s bed, in which he had been slowly nodding off. Gwaine entered quietly and approached the bed.

“How’s he doing?”

“A little better,” Merlin mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “He won’t have anything to eat or drink though.”

“You look exhausted,” the knight said.

“I’ve been stuck here all day. The most excitement I’ve had is when Arthur poured water over my head,” Merlin laughed tiredly.

“Go. I’ll watch him for a bit,” Gwaine insisted. “You get some air before we have to take you ill too.”

Graciously accepting Gwaine’s offer, Merlin set off to the edge of the city in the early evening air to stretch his legs. His muscles were a lot stiffer that he had anticipated and as a result it took a lot longer to reach the city gates. There were few people about and so Merlin sat himself down on the grass thankfully. He really hated being stuck inside.

He hadn’t been there for more than a minute when a cloaked figure rode up to the city and passed him. A few seconds later the horse was brought to a halt and the rider dismounted, approaching Merlin with a serious purpose.

“You rode out with the king,” the figure said in a gruff, strained voice.

“I’m his servant,” Merlin replied, standing up.

“Give this to him.” The rider shoved a folded piece of parchment into Merlin’s hand roughly, mounted his horse with remarkable elegance and galloped off into the night. For a few moments the manservant was too stunned to move, but after a few seconds he opened the note and looked at it. It was the same writing as before. Had he just met Barathon the Unseen?

XXX

“What does it say?” Arthur asked. His voice was hoarse and weak and he could barely sit up in his bed. Merlin shook his head as he addressed the king.

“I can’t read it. It’s in the same language as before,” he replied. Arthur coughed roughly, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment before continuing the conversation. His servant waited patiently.

“Can Gaius not translate it?”

“No, he can’t.” Merlin paused. Should he tell Arthur about Iellwen? Should he consult her? She had denied that the first note had been addressed to Arthur, but there was no doubt with this. They needed to know what it said. The manservant took a deep breath, “But… I think I know someone who can.”

“Well, then find them.”

“There’s one problem with that.”

“And what would that be?”

“This is written in Elvish,” Merlin said cautiously. Despite his weakened state, Arthur still managed to maintain his kingly ferocity that so resembled his late father’s.

“That’s impossible,” he snapped. “The Elves were wiped out during the Great Purge.”

Merlin half-laughed, “I don’t think so.”

“I assume you’re telling me this,” Arthur continued after a thoughtful pause, “because the person you would bring to act as a translator is an Elf.”

“Yes.” Merlin said confidently. The king considered for a moment, closing his eyes. The manservant watched as his chest rose and fell with difficulty. It seemed he was not improving after all.

“Fetch whoever it is that you know and I won’t ask how you came to be acquainted with them,” Arthur said. “As long as this message is translated correctly and nothing bad comes of it, then I will let this pass.”

Merlin bowed to the king and quickly left his presence. He had no idea how to contact Iellwen and he had no idea where she might be. Surely, she would be somewhere nearby? She was sent, after all, to protect Arthur. The likelihood was that she had spent the night outside the city walls, perhaps in the woods – it was doubtful that she would have spent the night at an inn for fear that she would be recognised as nonhuman. Merlin hurried out of the city. The streets were already empty and the night was upon Camelot like a thick, winter cloak. He could barely see enough to be sure that he was travelling unnoticed.

Suddenly, the sound of thundering hooves reached Merlin’s ears. Out of the darkness, a horse as white as the moon itself galloped straight towards him. Upon the horse rode a figure in a rippling green cloak. It was Iellwen. On spotting Merlin in her path, she pulled her horse furiously to a halt.

“Emrys!” she cried. There was a poorly masked panic in her voice and, if her face hadn’t been so composed, Merlin would have almost believed that she was afraid. “A vision – I had a vision of Arthur. Is he hurt?”

“Ill,” Merlin replied in surprise. “A fever. But-”

“Quick. We haven’t time to lose.” Iellwen offered Merlin her hand and he climbed up on the horse behind her. He had barely swung his leg over before the priestess urged the horse into a sudden canter. Without thinking, he grabbed her waist to stop himself from falling and they raced into the castle, leaving the remarkably obedient horse in the square. Merlin led her up the stairs and through the corridors to Arthur’s room.

As they approached the king’s door, Iellwen started abruptly and began to run. As they reached Arthur, Merlin could see why.


	4. Lost in Translation

Chapter 4 – Lost in Translation

The king lay on his bed, covered in sweat and convulsing violently. Tossing off her cloak, the elven priestess leant over him and felt his forehead.

“His brow is on fire,” she commented.

“He wasn’t this bad when I left him!” Merlin insisted guiltily, standing by helplessly. “He was improving.”

“Often a warning to prepare for the worst,” Iellwen replied sternly as she rolled back the sleeves of her glowing white dress. It occurred to Merlin for the umpteenth time that she was outstandingly beautiful. She turned to him in annoyance. “Fetch me Meadowsweet.”

Within minutes Merlin returned breathlessly to his king’s chambers, followed moments later by Gaius, and handed the bundles of dry herbs to Iellwen. She took them from him and, grabbing a tin cup from the side of Arthur’s bed, set about brewing him a tea. The two men watched her in silence as she worked. She muttered gently to herself, occasionally raising her hand from the fire to push her hair from her eyes. The glow of the embers and flames lighted her perfectly and, had he not known any better, Merlin could almost have mistaken her for an angel.

“You’re dribbling.”

“What?” Merlin snapped, shutting his mouth and grabbing his face as he turned to Gaius. “No I’m not.”

“You may as well have been,” the physician commented plainly, “the way you were staring at her.”

“I was watching her work,” Merlin protested quietly. Gaius simply raised an eyebrow and looked up as Iellwen stood, the beaker held in her hand. She carried it over to them.

“Try to get him to drink this.”

“What is it?” Merlin asked.

The priestess looked at him in mock surprise. “Well, with the intensity that you were – how did you put it? – _watching me work_ , I would have thought that you would already know.”

XXX

As embarrassed as he was, Merlin set to work as usual and, after much hassle, finally managed to force the meadowsweet tea down Arthur’s throat. It had a near instant effect. The king’s breathing became much easier and he seemed more awake than he had before. Despite his still weakened state, he insisted that the message should be translated immediately and in his own presence. Merlin relayed the request to Iellwen, who had refused to be in the room with Arthur whilst he was awake and had waited outside in the corridor.

“I will translate it, of course, but he cannot see me,” she said plainly, taking the note from Merlin’s hand.

“He specifically said-”

“And I specifically decline,” Iellwen interrupted. The young warlock frowned in annoyance as she looked down at the note. A moment later, she handed it back to him. “It is of no importance.”

“What does it say?” Merlin inquired. “Who is it from?” The priestess shrugged nonchalantly and began arranging her cloak on her shoulders.

“It’s from Barathon. He only warns Arthur to stop searching for him and that what he is doing in the Kingdom of Camelot is nobody’s business but his own.”

“You’re sure that’s all it says?” Merlin said, looking down at the note intently.

“That’s all it says,” Iellwen confirmed with a forced smile. “Let me know how Arthur fares tonight and alert me if there is any serious change.” Merlin’s head snapped up in surprise.

“You’re going?” he asked. “How am I supposed to contact you?” The elven priestess’s smile was genuine this time as pulled up her hood and tapped her temple playfully.

She began walking away and as she did her voice rippled through his mind.

“ _Goodnight, Emrys_.”

“Merlin,” he corrected aloud. She stopped and turned to him in confusion.

“Pardon?”

“My name is Merlin,” the manservant said with a smile. Iellwen returned it warmly.

“Well, goodnight then… Merlin.”

XXX

Dazed from the priestess’s dazzling beauty, confused by the mixture of signals he was receiving and worried about almost every other aspect of the evening, Merlin returned to the king. Arthur was propped up against a sea of pillows, being checked over by Gaius as Mordred, Leon and Guinevere watched. He visibly brightened as Merlin returned and he looked expectantly over his servant’s shoulder.

“Where is he?” the king asked immediately.

“Who?”

“The translator.”

“Oh, he – he’s gone,” Merlin replied, deciding to let Arthur believe that the translator was male, “but he did tell me what the message says.” Arthur frowned darkly.

“I specifically said to bring him to my chambers,” the king snapped.

“I did,” Merlin said quickly, “but you weren’t well.”

There was a pause as Arthur wiped his brow wearily. He was still in no fit state to argue and so he slid further down into his bed.

“Don’t you want to know what it says?” Merlin pressed. With a lazy wave of the hand the king gestured for his servant to continue. “It warns you to stop looking for Barathon as his business in your kingdom doesn’t concern you.”

“From?” Arthur asked. “Who is it from?”

“Barathon, the Unseen.”

“Well, perhaps he is less intelligent than we first thought,” the king half-laughed. “If he thinks that one empty threat will make me abandon my right to dispose of anyone I wish, then he is almost too naïve to bother with.”

“Are you sure it is wise, sire?” Leon said cautiously. “He doesn’t seem to mean any harm to you.”

“If he’d wanted you dead, he would have done it by now,” Mordred added. Arthur shook his head stubbornly.

“No, we will not rest until he is found, now that he knows we are back in-” He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit and Gwen rushed forward to help him to a sip of water, “Back in-” Again he choked on his words.

At this, Gaius interrupted.

“I think the king should get some rest,” he suggested. “Perhaps this meeting can resume tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Leon agreed, exiting the room with Mordred at his side. Taking the opportunity of a break in the conversation, Gwen turned to Merlin.

“Why did you need a translator? Surely a person wishing to communicate with Arthur would have written in English.”

“You’d have thought,” Merlin replied, “but the note was in Elvish and neither Gaius nor any other person in the court could translate it.” Guinevere paused thoughtfully for a moment, turning back to Arthur.

“So, this Barathon, he is…”

“He’s an Elf. Yes,” the king muttered, closing his eyes drowsily. Gwen looked significantly more worriedly as Arthur continued, “Which makes him an incredibly dangerous.”

“Why?” Merlin asked suddenly. If he was dangerous, were all Elves? Even Iellwen? He had to know. “Why does it make him dangerous?” A little surprised by his servant’s outburst, Arthur opened his eyes, paused slightly and then replied.

“They’re creatures of Magic,” he answered. “They’re exceptionally fast, intelligent and their acute senses make them excellent warriors, not to mention their extensive knowledge of Magic in all its forms.”

“Elves make formidable opponents,” Gaius added. “It would be wise to steer clear of them all together, my lord.” Arthur nodded as his eyelids began to sink heavily.

“If only that were possible. But we cannot let him walk all over us. Something must be done.”

XXX

“You never contacted me.” Merlin jumped out of his skin, sending the armour he had in his arms flying to the ground. As his hammering heart began to slow again, he turned to the girl stood behind him.

“A little warning would be nice,” he complained, kneeling to the ground to clear up the mess he had made.

“I did knock,” Iellwen said. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me.”

“Perhaps,” he muttered. She gazed at him working, a look of despair passing briefly over her face before he continued. “It’s alright. Just let me do all the work.”

“How kind,” she replied plainly, stepping into Arthur’s chambers and shutting the door firmly behind her. “I assume you told the king of the translation.” Merlin nodded as he lifted the armour from the floor. A gauntlet clattered to the ground again and he sighed, setting the pile on the table. When he turned around again to pick up the last piece, he found it waiting for him in the outstretched hand of the elven priestess.

Merlin took it from her with a smile. “Oh. Thanks.” She returned his smile and indicated to the table. They both sat down.

“Arthur – has he improved over these two nights?”

“Yes, slowly. In fact, he’s meeting with the council at the moment, despite the fact that he’s still too weak,” he replied. Iellwen nodded in satisfaction and set about helping Merlin repair the small faults in the armour in-between them. He watched her carefully. There was so much he didn’t understand about her yet. How did she know of Barathon? Why was she so adamant that she shouldn’t meet Arthur? And why, when he looked back to her suddenly, did Merlin see her watching him with that sadness in her eyes? One thing at a time. Carrying on nonchalantly, the young warlock slipped in a casual comment. “If you wait, I can introduce you.”

Iellwen’s head snapped up immediately and she glared at him a little. “As I said before, Merlin, I have no intention of meeting Arthur, and I’m sure he has no intention of meeting me.”

“But _why_?” the manservant pressed. “You don’t tell me anything and yet you still expect me to trust you.”

“Is trust too much to ask?”

“Yes, if it isn’t reciprocated,” Merlin said firmly. The elven priestess remained silent and so he continued, “Trust isn’t something you can just _take_. You have to give it too.”

They watched each other motionlessly for what seemed like an age until Iellwen looked down at her hands, picking at the wood of the table. Then she nodded. Looking up to Merlin, the young warlock could see that he had finally got somewhere.

“Alright,” she replied, “where do you want to start?”

“Who is Barathon?” Merlin asked immediately.

“An Elf,” Iellwen said honestly. For the sake of keeping peace, the manservant let this comment slip.

“Who is he to you?”

“He belonged to the same tribe as I do. He was a… friend of my mother’s.”

“Are there many tribes?” At this question, Iellwen paused and her gaze hardened a little.

“Not as many as there were,” she answered coldly. “My tribe are the isle elves. Only we and the wood elves still survive. There may also be mountain-dwellers, but it is not certain.” Merlin nodded his understanding. It seemed Uther had killed more in the Great Purge than he had let on.

“You said ‘ _belonged_ ’. Does he not anymore?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“His path is his to walk and his alone,” the priestess said bluntly.

Merlin could tell he was beginning to push her a little too far and so he moved swiftly on to his next question.

“The note – the first note – was it for you?” he asked.

“Yes, it was.”

“And it was from-”

“Barathon, yes.”

“What did it say?” Merlin said cautiously. He expected her to snap at him, in the same manner that she usually did, but instead Iellwen remained calm as she answered him.

“It asked me to meet with him.”

“And did you?” the manservant asked immediately.

“No,” she replied with the same directness. Merlin paused. There was so much he still didn’t understand. Everything she had told him only left him with more questions. Iellwen, seemingly annoyed at the sudden silence, took it upon herself to continue the conversation. “I suppose that you want to know why he wished to meet with me.” Merlin nodded and so she spoke again, “He wanted something from me – something I couldn’t give him.”

“And what was that?”

“My allegiance,” she said. Merlin nodded his understanding and was about to speak when the priestess stood up abruptly. “Are we done?”

The warlock stood too and looked her in the eyes.

“One more question,” he said carefully. She nodded her consent and he continued, “Why don’t you want to meet Arthur?” Iellwen’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Ah, now, I can’t tell you that.”

“But-”

“You will find out soon enough. In fact,” she interrupted triumphantly, “I believe you will do so before the week is out.” Merlin’s heart hammered in his throat. Why couldn’t she just tell him _now_? It was so unfair.

“Fine,” he said eventually.

Iellwen smiled. “No more questions?”

“No more questions,” he agreed with a small smile.


	5. Onwards to Aldarhold

Chapter 5 – Onwards to Aldarhold

The next morning when Merlin walked into Arthur's chambers expecting to see the king sleeping, he found himself in the middle of utter chaos. Stopping short of the table, he took in the scene around him. Various articles of clothing were strewn across the floor; four different swords lay exposed on the table covering a mass of maps and documents, some of which had worked their way onto the floor. The king's bed itself was almost invisible beneath an array of supplies ranging from food to gold and from cloth to curious wooden daggers. Somewhere further inside the room a person scuffled and, moving carefully and incredulously around the table, Merlin spotted Arthur rooting in his wardrobe for an evidently hidden object. Gwen stood by his side.

"Don't you think you should wait-"

"What happened here?!" Merlin interrupted. The queen looked around in surprise and Arthur withdrew himself from the wardrobe. He regarded his manservant with some kind of unexplained displeasure and marched over to the bed, picking up one of the bags on his bed and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Barathon has been spotted near Aldarhold on the western border," he said, now taking a blanket from a large pile that Merlin hadn't noticed before.

"And you're going after him?"

" _We're_ going after him. The knights are waiting in the courtyard."

"Arthur," Gwen protested, recovering from her initial shock and moving to intercept her husband before he picked one of the swords from the table, "you won't stand a chance against him in your condition. You've barely recovered-"

"Guinevere, we've been through this. I can't let this opportunity pass by." Putting the bag and blanket on the table and taking his wife's face in his hands, Arthur gave her his best confident smile. "I'm in capable hands. You know that."

"But-"

"No buts," he said firmly. He kissed the top of Gwen's head, grabbed the relevant objects from the table and turned to his manservant. "Come on, Merlin."

"Sire, are you sure this is a good idea?" the young warlock began to protest. Arthur rolled his eyes as he walked past him and out of the room.

"Don't you start."

Shooting Gwen an apologetic glance, Merlin followed Arthur as far as the entrance hall before veering off and heading back to Gaius's chambers. There, of course, he found Iellwen waiting for him. The fiery annoyance clearly displayed on her face told him everything.

"Don't even bother," Merlin said instantly.

"You know that Barathon will kill him without a second thought!" she cried. Ignoring the priestess's comment, Merlin grabbed his bag, filling it with anything and everything he deemed useful or essential. Indignantly, she continued, "You can't let him go!"

"What about you?" Merlin snapped, whirling around to face her.

"What about me?"

"If you met with him he would leave Camelot and Arthur alone. This is your fault not mine," he said heatedly. Fury blazed in Iellwen's eyes.

"It's your job to protect him!"

"And yours. You told me so the first time that we met."

"How am I supposed to help if you won't let me?!" Silence echoed around the room. For a moment, Merlin thought of retorting. But he didn't. He was too tired.

"I don't have time for this," he said flatly. She said nothing in return, so he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked past her without another word.

The knights were indeed all waiting for him in the courtyard.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur called to him. "What's taken you so long? Was it difficult to choose which comforter to bring?" The knights laughed as Merlin mounted his horse. He ignored the king's good-natured joke and urged his horse into a sudden walk.

"Are we going or not?" The men watched him leave in bemusement and only fully realised he was gone when the sound of hooves on the cobbles had faded into the general noise of the city. Shooting each other worried glances, they followed the manservant out of the courtyard.

XXX

Late afternoon found the small party of seven deep within Kestrel forest. Heading the procession was Merlin, still glaring ahead in stony silence. The knights had continued with their usual banter all day, but by now they were becoming weary and the chatter had almost stopped completely when they finally reached the small village of Aldarhold. Children ran to the muddy edges of what could only be classed as a poor excuse for a road, excitedly catching their first glance of a real knight. The older members of the community hung back more warily, no doubt suspicious of the noble strangers and their purpose. One man, however, stepped forward.

"You're here for the elf."

"Yes," Arthur replied, pulling his horse to a halt in front of the brave villager.

"He passed through here not an hour ago," the man said. He raised his arm and indicated to road behind him that led out of the village. "He was headed for the valley."

"Thank you." Arthur gave a swift nod to the man before signalling to the knights follow him. Together they urged their horses onwards and left Aldarhold behind them.

The silence and tension was almost unbearable as they journeyed further and further away from Camelot. Every small noise and every tiny disturbance in the undergrowth set their hearts hammering in their chests. Merlin had just about given up all hope when a sudden gust of wind roared through the trees. Several of the horses whinnied in fear, but the men had no time for comforting words. Stood several yards away was priestess Iellwen. Merlin could tell from the calm expression she wore that none of the others could see her. He knew what she was about to do and he opened his mouth to protest. She shook her head defiantly and raised her hand.

Then it all went dark.


	6. One More Question

Chapter 6 – One More Question

The light swirled through Merlin's vision and he could hardly tell which way was up as he tried to push himself from what he could only assume was the ground. He ought to have been accustomed to being knocked out after so many years in the king's service, yet it still surprised him how sparkly everything appeared afterwards. On his third attempt to stand, the world soared back into place. The knights lay scattered around him, their horses lurking nearby. None of them seemed much more harmed than he was and so he turned his attention to the voices he could heard not too far away.

He spun around, careful not to do so too quickly, and he spotted Iellwen almost instantly. She stood where she had been stood before, but this time she was not alone. Barathon stood with her. They were facing each other, with a stance that suggested that they were not friends and neither did they trust each other's intentions. Merlin crept closer.

"It is all I ask of you, nothing more, nothing less," Barathon said with the same strained voice that Merlin had heard only nights before.

"And I cannot give it to you," the priestess replied flatly. She continued after a pause, "You ask too much of me, father."

Merlin's heart leapt to his throat. Oh. That was why she didn't like talking about him.

"All I ask-"

" _All you ask_ is that I betray my family – my people – in exchange for what? A trinket that will do you no good and will bring you no glory," Iellwen cried fiercely. She shook her head. "I can't."

"It is so much more than a trinket. You know that." A look of near madness burned in his emerald eyes and he raised his fist. "It would give me a way to bring the mortal-kind to their knees."

"The weapon you speak of was never made to be wielded by someone such as yourself."

"Why not? I am the only one who dares to try," the elder snapped back quickly. Iellwen made a low guttural grunt of annoyance and the same fire that had been in her father's eyes moments before lit in hers.

"This lunacy is why mother sent you away!" she cried despairingly.

"No, child," Barathon muttered, his voice dripping with condescension as he took a step towards his daughter. Merlin tensed, ready to spring forward, but the elf only continued quietly, "what made your mother send me away was fear. Fear that I would lead you astray. Fear that I could master the Staff of Mourie. Fear that I was right." The elven priestess made no reply. She looked on her father with a look that Merlin couldn't place. Was it disdain? Anger? Fear? Iellwen glanced down at the ground and then turned from Barathon.

"Leave now. Before they wake."

"I will not leave without what I came for," he answered coldly. The priestess stopped in her tracks.

"I told you. You will not have it."

Suddenly, Barathon raised his hand.

"Don't touch her!" Merlin hardly recognised his own voice as he ran to put himself between the two of them. Iellwen turned, startled as the young warlock lifted his hand to match the elf's. Barathon's own surprise was quickly masked by a smirk.

"Merlin-"

"So," Barathon sneered, " _this_ is the great Emrys?"

"She told you to leave. Do as she says," Merlin replied flatly, deciding to ignore the patronising tone of the older man. Barathon began to laugh and Merlin could stand no more of him. In one swift movement, the elf flew through the air.

He landed hard on the gnarled roots of a tree and Iellwen cried out, "Stop!" Merlin's eyes hardly moved from Barathon. He didn't trust him. Iellwen continued, "Let there be no fighting."

"I do not stoop to begging," the elder said brashly, standing with remarkable speed, considering that the blow that had floored him would have winded even the most supple man, "but I _will_ have what I want, if not now then another day." Neither of the two that faced him made a comment as he summoned his horse with a whistle. Merlin's hand didn't lower until the elf was almost invisible amongst the trees and even then he still kept it slightly before him.

Finally, the young manservant turned to his friend.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently. He couldn't bring himself to be angry. She still stood with the same regal pose that even Arthur had trouble maintaining at times, but he could see from her shaking hands that the confrontation had taken a lot out of her. She smiled sadly, hardly looking him in the eye as she walked past him and over to where the knights still lay amongst the undergrowth.

"You wouldn't have understood," she said, brushing Arthur's hair from his face and feeling his forehead. "He is not yet fully healed. He should be put to bed as soon as you return to Camelot." Merlin knelt beside her and took her hand in his. She looked to him in unmasked surprise. He smiled and she returned the gesture briefly before he let her hand drop.

Merlin sighed and then spoke in a whisper.

"I was wrong?"

"Pardon?"

"I do have another question."

Iellwen regarded him with some kind of suspicion. "Oh?"

"Why are you sad?" he asked carefully. She looked down to the ground and stood.

"Please…" she whispered, turning from him and making her way to a glistening white horse that he hadn't noticed before. Merlin stood too.

"Because whenever I look at you and I catch you off-guard, you're watching me like I'm a dying man," he called after her. She stopped, but didn't face him. "What do you know that I don't?"

"The truth," she replied. As she walked away she dropped a piece of parchment on the ground. Merlin didn't stop her. There were so many things that he wanted to know, but he would get answers out of her later. He watched her ride away and then collected the parchment that she had dropped. The same elvish was written on the paper, but this time there was a translation beneath it:

_My business in Camelot is done. You will never hear of me again in your kingdom._

XXX

Needless to say, Arthur was not satisfied with the note. However, there was very little he could do about it. Although he would never admit it, the search for Barathon the Unseen was a lost cause. The blow was dulled slightly by the rumours flying around court that Arthur and his men had banished him personally. None of them – for the sake of retaining the faith of the people – made any attempts to correct these rumours. The king was forced to bed rest until he was fully recovered and Merlin was forced to tend to him: a less than appealing job. Iellwen didn't make an appearance until the day that Arthur was deemed well enough to attend the next day's court.

Merlin shut the door behind him wearily, almost falling onto the table where Gaius was serving dinner.

"Is he honestly so tiresome?" The young warlock's head snapped up. She was really making a habit of sneaking up on him. The priestess smiled and for the first time Merlin could see her eyes light up too. She made her way over to the table and took the ladle from Gaius's hand, indicating for him to sit.

"You'd be surprised," Merlin replied finally, thanking her as she handed him a bowl full of steaming broth. He tore a chunk of bread from the loaf on the table. "Even illness can't stop him being a prat." Iellwen laughed as she sat herself down beside him. Her voice sounded like the chime of bells and Merlin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"And how are _you_ coping?" she asked gently.

"Like I always do."

"How is that?"

"Reluctantly," he said with a smile. She shook her head, but she didn't quite manage to appear displeased.

Taking a spoonful of the broth, Iellwen spoke again.

"Where do you want to start?"

"What is the Staff of Mourie?" Merlin asked immediately.

"An immensely powerful weapon, crafted from twenty sacred trees that each represent a virtue. It channels the magic of whoever should wield it and can both create and destroy on a monumental scale."

"The belief of the Elves was – is," Gaius corrected himself after a stern look from Iellwen, "is that anyone who should not possess these virtues, yet elects to use the Staff, does so at their own peril."

"Which is precisely why my father is foolish to believe that any good will come of him having it," Iellwen added.

"But he wasn't asking you for the Staff," Merlin interrupted, "he was asking you for something else."

"A key," Iellwen answered, tapping Merlin's bowl austerely and waiting until he had begun to shovel the broth into his mouth before continuing, "a key, not in the literal sense, but in the sense that it would lead him to where the Staff of Mourie is hidden." Merlin attempted to speak, swallowing quickly and consequently choking on his bread and so Gaius spoke for him.

"Do you know where that might be?"

"Such knowledge is only bestowed on the High Priestess," Iellwen said with a small squirm, "and, as such, I can only assume that title when my mother dies and leadership of my people falls to me."

"Can't she tell you?" Merlin asked once he had recovered his voice. The young priestess shook her head.

"It is forbidden."

Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgement of his defeat. Carefully, he took another spoonful of the broth. A sudden thought crossed his mind. "Are you staying in Camelot?"

"Yes." Iellwen paused. "Unless you feel that my presence is unnecessary."

"No!" Merlin cried quickly. Blushing awkwardly as he tried to avoid Gaius's amused gaze, the young manservant turned to his friend. "I only meant, _where_ will you stay? What will you do?" Iellwen shrugged.

"I am sure there is any number of lonely widows willing to take in a young woman. As for work, I will begin my search tomorrow morning in the market," She looked to him, almost expectantly, "unless you have a better idea."

Merlin smiled. "I think I do."


	7. A Friend of Mine

Chapter 7 – A Friend of Mine

Arthur was sat in bed, ploughing through the pile of paperwork that had been accumulating over the period of his illness. Guinevere sat beside him, deep in concentration as she embroidered the hem of one of her dresses. The king looked up as Merlin entered, but paid him no more attention than that.

"Sire, I-"

"Not now, Merlin. I'm busy."

"It won't take more than a minute of your time," the young warlock insisted.

Arthur sighed, "Fine. If it will make you go away, what is it?"

"Last week you mentioned the amount of work you need doing-"

"Which you still haven't done," the king interrupted. Merlin pursed his lips.

"That's not the point," he replied. "My point is that, with the Harvest Festival being tomorrow, I thought you might appreciate some extra help." Arthur looked at him quizzically, putting aside his paper work and watching the manservant intently.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Another servant, perhaps, a maid," Merlin suggested carefully.

"Where would I find such a person? After Sefa's disappearance Camelot appears lacking in suitable, willing candidates to fill her place." At this, Gwen spoke.

"I've already said, Arthur. I can manage without a maid to wait on me constantly," she insisted, but Arthur raised his hand to stop her.

"I want to hear what he has to say."

Merlin nodded his agreement – it wasn't every day that Arthur actually _wanted_ to listen to him – and continued.

"A friend of mine-"

"Not a friend from the tavern, I hope," Arthur said sternly. It look the young warlock all his strength not to roll his eyes.

"No, not from the tavern. She – we knew each other growing up and she's come to Camelot in search of work. She's hardworking, never complains. She can cook, sew and… various other things – and – and-" Merlin blathered. Arthur shook his head and took the paper work up again.

"Merlin, she had the job from the moment you said 'not from the tavern'," he said with a small, slightly patronising smile. "Tell her she starts tomorrow morning. I will meet her here after breakfast."

The next morning, a much healthier-looking Arthur looked Iellwen up and down. She stood meekly before him, a cloth bonnet on her head to cover her ears and the waxing moon on her forehead scrubbed away. Arthur stopped pacing.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Luned, my lord," the young priestess answered humbly. Merlin suppressed a smirk. She really was an amazing actress. Arthur nodded.

"Luned," he repeated, sounding her name out. After a thoughtful pause he started, "You will attend to the queen and, when she does not need you, you will assist Merlin in his duties."

"Yes, my lord."

"She is out walking at the moment, but she will be back before midday. See that you are ready for when she returns."

"Yes, my lord."

"I have a council meeting. Merlin." The king turned to the young warlock who snapped out of the tired trance he had been in. Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You just… do what you're supposed to do."

"Of course, sire."

As the king walked out of his chambers, Merlin and Iellwen shared a smile. Oh yes, he would like working with her.

 


	8. Superstitious Minds

Chapter 8 – Superstitious Minds

"You know what I've just realised?" Merlin asked Iellwen as they both scrubbed the mud from Arthur's riding cloak. The priestess shrugged her shoulders. "It's been almost three months since you arrived in Camelot and there hasn't been any trouble at all. It's almost like your presence is-"

"Don't say it," she interrupted. Merlin smirked.

"You're not superstitious, are you?"

Iellwen frowned at the word as if it were an insult. "I believe that words are powerful weapons, not to be used in folly," she replied sternly. Merlin pursed his lips to prevent a smile slipping out and his companion turned back to the basin between them.

Over the time they had spent working together, the two had become close friends. The only time they had ever been fully separated had been during Samhain, but then he hadn't expected her to stay for the festival. The young priestess slept on the floor of Merlin's room, insistent on not taking his bed as he had offered. She had remarked that she had spent time in far worse conditions and would not hear of Merlin's fussing. He had also learnt that, beneath her composed and collected exterior, she had a not altogether unpleasant sense of fun. Of course, she still spoke little of her background, but she was often willing to answer Merlin's questions on any forms of Magic she was familiar with. He didn't fancy her though. He was certainly fond of her, and she wasn't exactly an eyesore, but his feelings went no further than that. They never would. They couldn't, of course.

"The king will be returning soon, Merlin," Iellwen said, wiping her hands on the front of her dress and tucking back the few strands of hair that had escaped the cloth bonnet she wore to hide her ears. Merlin watched as the curls rippled down her back. She frowned. "Can I help you?"

"Hm? No, I was just thinking I should probably collect his breast plate from the armoury."

Iellwen nodded.

"I will clear this away," she added in confirmation. They both stood and Merlin was almost at the door when she called out after him, "Oh and Merlin, don't forget his ceremonial sword. He'll need it for the Yule Festival tomorrow." The manservant nodded and left the room.

XXX

The banquet hall was buzzing with life. Intricate interweaved patterns of holly and ivy hung from every candle bracket and the walls were decorated with evergreen boughs and mistletoe hung in the doorway. The unmistakable aroma of pine, cedar and cinnamon mixed with the rich warm scent of the caraway cake that lay teasingly on the tables, soaked in cider so delightful that it raised the hairs on the back of necks. Merlin eyed the feast hungrily, but the contentment emanating from his friends soon dulled his jealously and he settled into conversation with Iellwen and Mordred who were both new to Camelot's festival of Yule. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin watched Arthur. It had been a long time since he had seemed so happy. The stress of the past year had put a lot of pressure of him and he deserved at least a few trouble free months. Gwen, sat by his side, looked positively radiant and from the angle Merlin was looking from, he could see that their hands were linked together beneath the table. The young warlock smiled.

"At home we wassail the trees," Iellwen commented. Merlin turned back to the conversation just in time to see Mordred nod in agreement.

"We did that too, when I was a child," he replied, "It feels odd, doesn't it, not-" The knight was cut off abruptly by the doors of the hall swinging back violently on their hinges and hit the wall with an almighty racket. The entire hall fell immediately into a shocked silence and Arthur stood defiantly as a girl covered from head to toe in an alarming range of foliage threw herself sobbing to the floor in the centre of the tables.

"My lord, my king, please, please help me!" she cried. Those gathered looked to Arthur expectantly and Guinevere half raised herself in her seat, clearly distressed by the girl's anguish.

"Why do you need my help?" he asked carefully. "Who has caused you to come to begging at the feet of a king?"

"A terrible man, sire, a terrible, _terrible_ man. He attacked me in the forest and he – and he hurt me," the girl wept. "He was a sorcerer, sire, I am sure of it. Please, sire, you must help me."

"I am your king and it is my duty to protect you from men such as the one you mention," Arthur nodded to Iellwen, "Luned, take this girl and provide her with a bath, food and a bed for the night." The priestess curtsied to the king and hurried, virtually having to lift the girl from the floor and carry her from the banquet hall. The king turned to address his knights.

"We ride tomorrow at dawn."

XXX

As soon as they were out of sight and the doors of the banquet hall had been closed on them, Iellwen forced the girl roughly against the wall.

"Don't think I can't see through you, Kiana," she sneered, tugging at the girl's hair. "You're getting sloppy." Kiana grinned almost maniacally and Iellwen grimaced, letting go of the girl. A servant carrying a fresh jug of wine passed them on his way to the hall and Iellwen, knowing it was not safe to talk so openly, pulled Kiana down the corridor.

"I admit, simply changing hair colours was a long shot." she said calmly once she had been tossed into an empty guest room, straightening out her rags. Iellwen checked that no one had followed them before closing the doors and turning to the conversation. "But at the same time, I did not expect to find you lurking in King Arthur's court, least of all _serving_ him." The young priestess ignored Kiana's comment.

"Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first," Iellwen snapped impatiently. Kiana smirked.

She took a brush from the dressing table against the wall and began to comb the dirt out of her white blonde hair.

"It is no business of yours," she replied. Iellwen glared at the girl who only laughed and pouted mockingly. "Must you always be so suspicious of my motives, sister?"

"I am not your sister."

"We are of the same ancient tribe, so I think you are." There was a slightly threatening tone to Kiana's voice that the elven priestess did not like.

"I know that your presence is not a good omen," she said. "If you mean to harm Arthur-"

"And what if I do?" Kiana interrupted, ceasing brushing her hair and taking a step towards her kinswoman.

"I will not allow it." Kiana snorted at the priestess's comment and resumed her brushing.

"Oh, I think you will allow me to do whatever I wish," she said condescendingly, "I take it that no one at court knows of your descent." Iellwen remained silent. There was something more that the girl was not telling her and probably wouldn't still if asked. Iellwen would have to play her cards carefully. Kiana set the brush back on the dressing table and indicated lazily to the large basin in the centre of the room. "Are you not going to prepare me a bath?"


	9. Mistletoe

Chapter 9 – Mistletoe

Half an hour later, the basin was full to the brim with steaming water and Kiana stood shivering sky clad beside it. Iellwen watched her as she swirled the water with her hand, waiting for it to cool to a bearable temperature; perhaps the elven priestess had heated it too vigorously with her enchantments and in thinking of it she smirked. The girl had thinned out since they had last seen each other. It must have been at least ten years, if not nearer to fifteen, that they had spent apart. That had been when Kiana had gone her own way. Following their father. Now she was no longer a flourishing youth of twelve. Her hips jutted out unhealthily and her legs looked as if one swift blow would snap them clean in half. Iellwen almost smiled as she noted the blood smeared between Kiana's legs – a nice touch. Looking back to the girl's face Iellwen noted how little they shared. Her own features were dark and angled, almost chiselled, but Kiana had the look of a well-fed merchant's daughter. Her button nose and moist brown eyes as well as the smooth curve of her ears marked her out for what she was. A half-breed.

Both so deep in thought, neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until the door was thrown open clumsily by Merlin.

"I thought you might want Gaius to – oh!" The manservant spun around and blushed a deep red as Gaius almost walked straight into him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

"It's alright, really," Kiana snivelled, turning on the waterworks as easily as she had always been able to do. "I have no pride left to guard…" She collapsed dramatically against the side of the basin and Gaius moved to assist her in climbing in. It was all Iellwen could do not to roll her eyes.

"Merlin, fetch Kiana some broth from the kitchen. I am sure she is hungry after her…" The priestess looked to the girl who glared quickly through her tears. Iellwen took a deep breath and finished her sentence, "ordeal."

"Of course," Merlin nodded, sneaking a quick glance at his friend. She could see the searching look in his eyes. She knew he couldn't read her. It was one of the first things she had been taught during her training, how to read others but not be read yourself. He pulled his eyes from her and left the room without another word. The knot in her chest twisted tighter. Could she possibly be feeling guilty?

Hearing a splash, Iellwen turned away from the door. Kiana held her knees to her chest in the centre of the basin and Gaius was checking the cuts and grazes on her face and arms. Iellwen settled herself against the wall to watch. Kiana did nothing but glare at her. The young priestess would have been amused if she hadn't been trying to induce the Sight. It was a difficult thing to do, to summon a vision. She closed her eyes and as much as she tried she could see nothing but flickering images – Arthur and Kiana riding side-by-side – a heavily cloaked knight standing against the sky – a rearing horse. She was almost about to give up when the face of a woman flashed through her mind, if it even was a woman that she saw. Her features were horribly distorted and covered in warts and her hair fell in uneven wisps about her head. The teeth that remained stuck out at strange angles and her eyes were full of a kind of madness that Iellwen had never seen before.

With an involuntary cry, the young elven priestess fell to the floor. Somewhere to her right she faintly heard a bowl clattering against a table and the contents sloshing over the edge, and within seconds she could feel Merlin's strong arms on her shoulders as he pulled her up into a sitting position.

"Iellwen, what is it?" he asked anxiously. "What did you see?" She opened her eyes and looked into his.

"A woman – or not a woman – I'm not sure. I – she…" Iellwen stammered. "Nothing. I saw nothing."

Merlin frowned, "What did the woman look like?"

"I – I don't remember," the priestess answered truthfully. The moment she had opened her eyes the image had disappeared, leaving her with nothing but a feeling of dread. Her companion looked at her disbelievingly. "Honestly, I don't." Looking anything but happy with Iellwen's claim, Merlin helped her to her feet and waited until she had steadied herself before going to clean up the mess he had made.

Kiana now sat, still glaring, at the table, wrapped in a thick nightgown and shawl. It seemed that she had been in touch with the Sight for longer than she had thought. Gaius sat beside her. Merlin mopped up the contents of a second bowl of broth. When Iellwen looked at it questioningly, he shrugged.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"No, thank you. I couldn't eat," she replied. The flicker of hurt that passed across his face almost made Iellwen curse her pride. She nodded to Kiana. "What has she been telling you?"

"Nothing yet," Gaius said. "We wanted her to eat first."

"No need," Iellwen snapped. She took the seat opposite Kiana and looked the girl in the face as she spoke, "I can easily tell you what she'll say. She'll tell you that she lived high in the valley on her parents' farm and that's where he found her. She'll tell you that her parents were killed in the struggle and, had she not escaped when she did, she would have been too. She'll tell you that he was an evil sorcerer who spoke of nothing but his warped vendetta against Arthur and, when she's finally finished lying through her teeth, she'll break down crying and play the damsel in distress."

A stunned silence fell across the room. Although she never took her eyes from Kiana, Iellwen could feel Merlin and Gaius staring. In sudden defiance, Kiana shot up.

"Iellwen is of Magic," she cried. The triumphant gleam in her eyes lasted no longer than a few seconds. She looked around at the three of them. "Have you nothing to say? Will you not report her to your king?" They all remained still as Iellwen tried to keep her smile from showing on her face. Merlin sat next to her at the table.

"I don't believe you have had the honour of being acquainted with my good friend, Emrys," Iellwen said calmly. Kiana's eyes widened as she looked to Merlin and then quickly narrowed again. She was not priestess-trained like Iellwen. Merlin looked to the elf warily, surprised that she had used that name. She shot him a quick glance. " _She will not give you away. I know her too well to allow her to do that. But it would be useful all the same to keep her in fear of you._ " Merlin nodded his understanding. The priestess felt a pang deep in her heart. He was far too good to her, far too accepting. He had every right to know that his name was well known to the elven-folk. He had every right to know why Kiana was now scared of him. He had every right to snap at her and demand to know everything that she did, but instead he sat there in quiet submission. Still, she could see the look in his eye that told her he would not let it go so easily.

XXX

Merlin was hot on Iellwen's heels as they entered the physician's chambers later that night, long after settling Kiana into her chambers and seeing the Yule feast ended. She barely had time to pull the bonnet from her head before he spoke.

"What was that about?"

"I know my own sister's mind." The young warlock stopped in his tracks and regarded his friend quizzically. "Well, half-sister. Barathon is father to us both."

"What is she doing here?" he asked. Iellwen shook her head and sighed deeply. "Well, whatever it is it can't be good. You didn't exactly seem to be on the same side." He paused briefly. He had never seen the priestess take such a disliking to a person and it worried him greatly. "We need to get rid of her."

"Merlin, do you truly believe that she is here to kill Arthur?" the priestess answered wearily.

"Well, what other motive could she have for being in Camelot?" Merlin retorted quickly. Iellwen climbed the stairs to their room and sat heavily on the nest of blankets that acted as her bed, wiping her forehead.

"I don't know," she admitted. There was a quiet pause and, seeing her distress, Merlin sat beside his friend.

"Didn't you see her?" he asked gently.

Iellwen frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see her coming? Didn't a vision warn you, like it did with Arthur?" The young priestess laughed bitterly.

"Of course it didn't. She's a half-breed and half-breeds are my blind spot."

"A half-breed? You mean-"

"Her father is my father, but her mother was a mortal whore," Iellwen spat. She sighed, "It's a shame really. Kiana was such a nice girl in her youth – caring, affectionate, not a hateful bone in her body." Merlin watched the elven priestess, almost mesmerised. He could hear the melancholy in her voice and he felt bad for her. She couldn't have had an easy life with Barathon the Unseen for a father and such a confusing family tree.

"What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" She looked to him with a raised eyebrow and they answered her question in unison, "Barathon." Sharing a smile, it felt for a moment as if they had no troubles and were simply two young people sharing a joke together. Merlin felt the smile fall from his face as he remembered – they could never have that, or at least he couldn't.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered, looking down at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs anxiously. He could feel Iellwen's eyes on him as she spoke, sliding her hand into his and his heart skipped a beat at the contact.

"It's up to you."

"I feel like we should do _something_ ," he sighed. "But you're right. I don't believe she has any real intention to bring harm to Arthur, at least, not while we're still in Camelot."

"That is what worries me. What can she possibly have planned?"

"We're going to have to keep a very close eye on her," Merlin decided. "Arthur's company will leave at sunrise and I will leave with them."

"So will I," Iellwen added. The young warlock shook his head.

"No. You can stay here." The priestess opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her. "Don't argue. Protecting Arthur is my responsibility and with the history between you and Kiana it would be better to keep you as far apart as possible, in Arthur's presence at least." The elven girl sighed and nodded her agreement.

In the slowly dying candle light, Merlin looked to Iellwen. Her own gaze was fixed on their entwined fingers as she stroked the rough skin on the palms of his hands – worker's hands. A small smile played across her face as she looked up at him briefly. Her gaze carried on until she reached a spot above their heads.

"Mistletoe," she whispered.


	10. Deal Or No Deal

Chapter 10 – Deal or No Deal

Merlin barely had time to take a breath before she leant forward and pressed her lips gently to his. It only lasted a second, but the young warlock's blood still flooded from his head to all the wrong places and his chest tensed so tightly that he felt as if he might never breathe again. Iellwen pulled back and smiled at the stunned expression on his face. He swallowed loudly and for a moment there was a sudden silence.

"I should – I need – I – to – erm – Arthur's stuff-" he stammered.

"Let me," Iellwen interrupted firmly. "You're the one who will be up before dawn tomorrow, or rather, today." Without waiting for assent, she stood up and placed the bonnet back on her head, tying the strings in a neat bow beneath her chin. She stopped at the door and turned back to him. "Get some sleep."

As the door shut behind her, Merlin let himself fall back against the wall. Well, that was unexpected.

XXX

Things became even more unexpected the next morning. Iellwen had been asleep when Merlin had woken and he prepared for the journey as silently as was possible. As the sun rose, he woke her to tell her he was leaving. She dressed swiftly and, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, followed him without a word to the courtyard where Arthur's company stood assembled.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur complained, "even Gwaine's here before you." Merlin rolled his eyes and the king had to turn away to hide his slight smirk. The elven priestess held the reins of the warlock's horse as he attached the saddle bag. As he moved to mount, she grabbed his arm.

"There are only six of you. You must be careful," she told him firmly. He nodded his agreement.

"I will," he replied quietly. She forced a small, worried smile and kissed him quickly on the cheek before he lifted himself onto his horse and turned towards the gathered knights. She backed away to the steps where the queen stood waiting.

Merlin could feel the questioning stares of the knights, but he pretended not to notice and they pretended not to care. They broke into a trot and the precession, led by Kiana and Arthur, headed from the citadel of Camelot and out into the lower town surrounding it. They were leaving by the west entrance as that was the direction in which they were headed – towards the mountains near Badon. They never reached the mountains.

In the middle of the afternoon, Kiana called a halt to the journey and indicated to the end of the track they were on with a shaking hand.

"There he is." Merlin followed the stretch of her arm with his eyes and reached the tip of her finger just in time to see a figure emerging from the shadows of the trees and advancing towards them. Arthur dismounted alone and stepped a few paces in front of his horse and the figure stopped when they were jousting lance apart. Merlin's heart leapt as he recognised the man.

"King Arthur," he said, "I don't believe we have been introduced." A smirk played across his face and Merlin glanced quickly to Kiana. She showed no intention of returning to him, but the small gleam in her eyes made him feel uneasy.

"Barathon the Unseen, I presume," the king replied cautiously, noting his opponents pointed ears.

"You presume correctly."

"Not so invisible now," Arthur noted plainly. Barathon threw back his head as he laughed.

"That's good," he said gleefully, the rough edge to his voice disappearing briefly. "I have been told of your bravery and swordsmanship, but I wasn't aware that you were witty too." Arthur paused before replying.

"I didn't come here to trade niceties."

"No," Barathon said. The smile fell from his face and he nodded to Kiana, who cowered appropriately. "You came here because of the girl."

"I came to bring you to justice."

Barathon studied Arthur carefully. He ran his fingers across the hilt of his sword absentmindedly and Merlin had time to study his features. He and Iellwen definitely bore a certain family resemblance: the slant of the cheekbones, the dark hair and the deep green eyes, to name a few. The hem of his brown tunic was fraying, as was the fur-lined cloak that covered it. He wore a quiver and bow slung carelessly across his back and his short hair was matted as a clear result of neglect.

"I'm not sure that I like the sound of that," Barathon muttered darkly, "but I will make you a deal all the same."

"I don't make deals with creatures like you," Arthur said firmly. The elf almost smiled. "If you will not come with us freely, then you will be taken by force."

"I would like to see you try." A heavy silence filled the air and Barathon shot another glance to his daughter before continuing. "I will make it simple for you. Answer me one question and if you do so correctly I will allow you to escort me to your dungeon." Arthur considered for a moment and Merlin watched him intently. This seemed too easy. Why would Barathon effectively arrest himself? What would he gain? The king nodded slowly.

"And if my answer is wrong?" he asked. "What then?"

"Then I get the girl," Barathon replied.

"What is the question?"

"You must agree to the terms first," the elf said with a smirk. "I will not be bested by a mortal, not matter how witty." Arthur remained stony-faced. He turned to look briefly at Kiana before turning back.

"I agree to your terms," the king answered boldly. "Now what is the question?"

This time, Barathon looked straight at Kiana as he spoke and she held his gaze with wide eyes.

"What is it that women most desire?" he asked. The knights looked to and from each other in sheer confusion and Arthur turned to them, as if expecting them to give him the answer. Gwaine shrugged overtly and Mordred only glanced sheepishly at Kiana before shaking his head. The others made no suggestions. Merlin watched as Barathon smiled. "You needn't answer now. Return to this road on new years' day and you may present me with your answer then."

And just like that, he was gone.

XXX

" _What is it that women most desire_?! What sort of question is that?!" Arthur complained loudly as he stormed across the courtyard and up the stairs into the castle. "How can I find a common desire amongst all the women in my kingdom in ten days?"

"You could always ask them," Merlin suggested. The manservant ducked in the nick of time and Arthur's fist swung across the empty space that had only just been vacated.

"Not all of them."

"Well, then a cross-section."

"Oh good," Arthur replied wryly as he walked away, leaving Merlin in the corridor. "Well, I'll ask my wife and you can ask yours."

"She's not my wife!"


	11. The Affairs of Women

Chapter 11 – The Affairs of Women

"I don't like this at all," Iellwen muttered, watching Merlin as she idly stirred her broth. The manservant shook his head.

"Neither do I," he replied. "Do you think Barathon has any intention of coming freely to Camelot? I mean, it doesn't seem like him to… play fairly."

"You're working on the basis that you will find the answer to his question, assuming that one exists in the first place," Gaius said as he placed a slice of leftover caraway cake on the edge of Iellwen's bowl. She thanked him, but slid it across to Merlin as the physician turned away to put the remainder of the loaf in the cupboard.

"What do you mean?" the young warlock asked through a bite of broth-soaked cake.

"You said it yourself, Merlin," Gaius said, returning to the table, "Barathon is not one to play by the rules and he may simply be buying himself more time."

"More time?" Iellwen repeated. "Are you suggesting that he may have an ulterior motive?"

Gaius nodded. "It is more than likely."

"But that still doesn't explain Kiana's presence in Camelot," Merlin insisted.

"A distraction, perhaps," Iellwen replied with a shrug. "There could be any number of reasons for her being here, but the more immediate problem is formulating an answer to that dratted question." Merlin nodded. He couldn't agree more.

XXX

For eight days, Arthur and his men questioned any woman they could lay their hands on, metaphorically or not, and Mordred was tasked with keeping a note of the answers they were given. Some knights rode to the outlying villages whilst others journeyed no further than the lower town. Everywhere they went they received different answers and it seemed that few women had answers in common. Arthur began to despair. Merlin watched as the king progressively became more and more agitated. Gaius was consulted on several occasions but he could give no clearer answer than the knights could find themselves. At the end of the ninth day, the night before they would begin their journey to the road to Badon Hill, Arthur called a council.

Arthur frowned, intense hatred radiating from his eyes and burning into the paper in front of him.

"This is honestly all we have?" he asked the knights gathered at the table. They looked to and from each other guiltily as Arthur read out the list, " _Noble husbands, good health, riches, plentiful harvest, land and… less bothersome customers_?" The king turned to Gwaine and the young knight grinned.

"Other than unmerited slaps, that's all I got from the tavern girls," he explained. "And the one who was kind enough to answer me didn't actually use the phrase 'less bothersome customers', if you can believe it. I was paraphrasing."

Arthur mumbled to himself as he crossed it off the list, "I'm sure."

"What did the queen say?" Mordred asked. "She is the wisest amongst us when it comes to the affairs of women." At this, the king squirmed uncomfortably.

"What the queen said is neither here nor there. None of these answers even sound half right," Arthur complained, quickly avoiding the topic Mordred had suggested. He could see Merlin from the corner of his eye, giving the king an inquisitive look. Arthur ignored him. "What is it that _all women_ most desire?"

"Surely that's an impossible question, sire," Leon interjected. "How can the desires of all the women in the land be summed up in one?"

A silence echoed about the council chamber, but it was cut short by Luned.

"May I interject, sire?" she asked softly. Arthur nodded his assent.

"By all means, Luned," he replied "It's not as if we're getting anywhere."

"Perhaps you are thinking too literally. Perhaps what is sought by all women is not something physical or something that one may own, but something that may be felt." The knights looked dumbstruck at the young maid servant as if she had spoken a foreign language.

"Happiness!" Mordred cried and Arthur snapped his fingers, immediately scribbling down the word on his parchment. The council looked relieved. However, Percival did not seem so convinced.

"Not all women are unhappy," he said. "Do contented women then wish for sorrow?"

Arthur sighed, "This is hopeless." None of his knights denied it.

XXX

The council went on late into the evening and many heated discussions took place. By the end of it they had succeeded in nothing other than wearing themselves out. Arthur returned to his chambers so late that Gwen and Iellwen had already gone to bed and Merlin lay dozing at the table.

"And what time do you call this?" the manservant muttered wryly, shaking himself awake and standing to greet the king. From the look he received, Merlin guessed that his comment hadn't been appreciated. Arthur threw himself into the chair by the fireplace and Merlin automatically began tossing more wood on to the fire to keep it going. After a heavy pause, the manservant spoke, "Are you no closer?"

"If we were, I wouldn't be in such a foul mood," Arthur snapped. He stayed silent for a moment as Merlin stood watching him, his hands clasped behind his back. Suddenly, the king snapped, "This whole thing is impossible. Everybody is different. Everybody has different needs and desires. How am I supposed to find one that covers them all?"

Merlin couldn't reply.


	12. A Simple Enough Request

Chapter 12 – A Simple Enough Request

They set off in the early mists of the morning, a small company of nine. Iellwen insisted on accompanying them, for the sake of Kiana, and reluctantly the king agreed. Heavily cloaked, the sombre procession journeyed west towards Badon. It was clear to them all that Arthur had still not decided on his answer. Mordred was sticking to 'happiness', Percival insisted that the answer should be 'good health' and Gwaine – well, Gwaine's suggestion was less than appropriate. By midday the mists had still not cleared up and the steady ascent up Badon hill brought the party to an infuriatingly slow pace. As Gwaine and Elyan began to argue on the merits of sending a scout ahead, Merlin dropped back to draw level with Arthur. The king showed little acknowledgement of his servant.

Merlin attempted to draw his gaze. "You seem worried."

"Of course I'm worried," Arthur snapped. "I still don't know how I'm going to answer. Even after interviewing half of the women in Camelot we couldn't remotely find one wish in common." Merlin paused before asking what he had been burning to since the council meeting.

"If you don't mind me asking, sire, what answer did the Queen give to the question?"

Arthur glared at Merlin and mumbled, "None of your business." Merlin turned to look forwards where Iellwen and Kiana rode silently in front of them.

"Surely it's _her_ business," he said softly, nodding to Kiana. "Whatever Gwen said might be the key to the question."

"It's not."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she told me that her greatest wish was to bear me a son."

"Oh."

The two men fell silent. Merlin looked to his master. The king didn't seem visibly upset, but Merlin knew him better than that.

"It will happen," he said, trying to mask his uncertainty.

"I know," Arthur responded. The king paused as if debating whether to share his thoughts with Merlin. He took a breath. "But it's been almost three years since we were married. She's growing impatient."

"These things can take time."

"I know."

"Then why do you seem so upset?"

Arthur sighed loudly and was about to reply when Gwaine shouted for the party to stop. Kiana's horse whinnied and kicked at something in the mists just ahead of them and the king rode past the two women to draw up beside Gwaine and Elyan.

"Let us pass." He said. Merlin strained to see the person Arthur was speaking to.

A gruff voice spoke from the mists. "I know of your plight." This time Elyan's horse snorted and backed up hastily. Gwaine struggled beside Arthur to keep his horse from doing the same. Arthur dismounted and drew his sword.

"Show yourself."

Slowly and steadily a hunched figure sloped into the clear air. A thick cloak of matted animal hair covered their face and their steps were low and unsure as if made by a blind man. As they reached Arthur they lifted their veiny, swollen hands and pulled back the hood of their cloak. Immediately, Iellwen recoiled with a poorly-hidden gasp and the reactions of the others were very similar.

Before them stood the ugliest hag of a woman any of them had ever laid eyes on. Her face like her hands was swollen unevenly and her skin was grey and peeling. Her hair, if it could even be called hair anymore, floated in fine silver wisps about her face. She was truly hideous. Merlin watched as Arthur tried desperately to hide his disgust.

"I know what the Elf has asked of you," the crone declared. "I have the answer."

"You?" Arthur asked warily. "You have the answer?"

"' _What is it that women most desire?_ ' I know it truly. I know the single wish of every woman in your kingdom and all others."

"What answer would you give, then?"

The hag cackled loudly and the birds in the surrounding trees scattered in terror. "I will not give it freely, my lord. I seek payment for my services."

"Fine," Arthur agreed, "I have gold."

"I have no use for gold," the hag replied immediately. Arthur grinded his teeth.

"Then what do you want in return-"

"Arthur," Elyan interrupted, "how do we know we can trust her?"

"I will give you my answer and if you think it worthy then you are to reward me," the hag croaked desperately. "My request is simple enough."

Arthur paused and his brow creased in contemplation.

"What is it that you want as a reward?" he said finally.

"I wish you to find me a husband amongst your men," the hag said with a sinister smile.

The king took a step back and immediately replied, "No. I'm sorry, but I could not confine a man to a life with… you." He turned around and mounted his horse, slipping his sword back into it's sheath.

"I'll do it." The entire party turned their heads towards the centre of their group. "I'll marry you," Gwaine said as he dismounted and advanced towards the hag. The glee in the woman's eyes was almost sickening.

"Gwaine, no," Arthur protested. "I can't ask you to-"

"But you didn't ask," Gwaine interrupted. He turned back to the woman, "Now you must give me the answer." The hag waddled forwards eagerly, and the knight bent slightly as she handed him a slip of parchment and whispered in his ear. The party merely sat in stunned silence and watched as Gwaine tried desperately not to shudder. Pulling away from his betrothed, he nodded and handed the parchment to Arthur.

"We will meet you here as we return to Camelot," Arthur told his knight with solemnity. "Thank you, Gwaine. You have done Camelot a great service." Gwaine nodded his head with a poorly forced smile.

Arthur turned to Kiana and for the first time since they had stopped Merlin noticed the discontented look on her face. This obviously hadn't been part of her father's plan.

"You said your family lived in these parts. How much farther until we reach the top of the hill?"

"Not far," she answered. "Less than an hour's ride, even in this weather." With one final glance to Gwaine, Arthur indicated for the rest of them to continue onwards.

XXX

Kiana was right. Within the hour, the mists began to break over the peak of Badon hill and the party came to a halt on the flat. The snort of a horse alerted them to the presence of another.

"I was starting to think you'd chickened out." The air began to clear and Barathon became invisible. He stood next to a jet black horse in the centre of the road. A smirk played across his face.

"You struck a bargain with the wrong man, then," Arthur retorted impatiently as he dismounted swiftly. Merlin couldn't see Kiana's face but as her father looked in her direction she gave a small nod. Merlin had no time to try to understand the pleased expression on Barathon's face before the elf spoke.

"Do you have an answer for me, or am I to claim my prize?" he sneered. Arthur moved a few paces forward, "What is it that women most desire?"

The king took a deep breath. He flexed his hand and, shaking his head slightly, he opened the parchment that the old hag had given him.

Unsurely he read it out. "Women most desire… to have the power of choice."

The look of dismay on Barathon's face was priceless. It evolved quickly into deep anger and Merlin could almost feel the rage pouring off him.

"It's seems that I will be claiming my prize instead," Arthur said, tucking the parchment into his pocket and slipping the manacles from the saddle of his horse.

" _Be ready_." Merlin heard Iellwen's voice echo through his mind. Arthur advanced towards Barathon, trying desperately to hide his apprehension. The elf, having seemed to have regained control over his expression, looked directly at Merlin. Much like Iellwen, his expression was unreadable and as he raised his hands, the young warlock flinched. The king fitted the manacles on his prisoner's outstretched arms without a problem. They locked with a solid clank that echoed down Merlin's spine. Well, that was easy.

XXX

"I don't like this," Iellwen muttered for the thousandth time.

"You don't say," Merlin replied sarcastically, his voice echoing into the table on which he was resting his head.

"It was too easy."

"Yes."

"He would never willingly be taken."

"No."

"What is he playing at?"

"I don't know."

"Are you even listening to me?"

Merlin lifted his head. "We've been going over this for the past four hours," he answered crossly, "and we are still just as clueless as we were at the beginning." Iellwen glared at him from across the foyer where she was pacing and so Merlin continued. "There is no reason for him to be in Camelot. He has already made it clear that he has no interest in Arthur, he knows that he's not going to get any information out of you and Kiana only seems to be here because of him."

"There must be something we missed."

Merlin stood and walked a few paces towards her.

"Are you sure you didn't see anything else?"

"No, all I saw was the woman." They both paused and grimaced, "Poor Gwaine." They fell into silence and Iellwen rubbed her eyes.

"It's the middle of the night, we should be asleep," Merlin murmured. Iellwen raised an eyebrow at him.

"Won't sleep," she said stubbornly.

"Well, I'm going to bed, "Merlin retorted, making his way to the door, "He's being questioned. Nothing will happen tonight."


	13. Great Big Wooden Stick

Chapter 13 – Great Big Wooden Stick

Merlin barely slept a wink that night. He could hear Iellwen tossing and turning on the floor. The only time she stopped was to sigh and grumble to herself unintelligibly. Merlin was eternally thankful for the dawn when he could justify leaving his room and dragging himself towards Arthur's chambers. He set about making a fire and selecting Arthur's clothes for the day before collapsing into the chair by the fireplace.

He couldn't remember falling asleep but he must have, because the next thing he remembered was waking with a start to find Arthur looming over him, a displeased look on his face. Paradoxically almost falling to the floor in his desperation to stand, Merlin spluttered.

"I – I don't – I wasn't supposed to fall asleep." Arthur only raised an eyebrow and so the manservant continued, "I didn't sleep at all last night." This time the king let slip a small smile.

"Nor did I," he chuckled, turning to around to take his sword and belt from the table.

"Urgh," Merlin said. "For vastly different reasons."

"Really?" Arthur asked in feigned coyness. Merlin turned from the king and began to arrange wood in the fire that he had been neglecting.

He snorted. "Well the last time I checked I didn't have a wife." Arthur lent up against the edge of the table and began picking at the loose threads on his scabbard absentmindedly. Merlin stood and moved to begin serving breakfast.

"So you and Luned," Arthur posited, "there's nothing going on there?" Merlin pulled a half-amused, half-innocent face at his master.

"Luned? No." Merlin shook his head and Arthur set his sword behind him and began to pace around the table nonchalantly.

"That little kiss? In the courtyard? Yule?" The manservant pursed his lips and shook his head more fiercely still. Arthur stopped a few feet away from his servant and raised his eyebrows adopting a parental stance. He lifted his shoulders suggestively and Merlin mimicked his movements.

"What kiss? We didn't kiss," Merlin retorted, half-laughing. "I think I would have remembered that."

"You did!"

"No, we didn't."

"Merlin, we all saw it."

Merlin gave a short, sharp sigh. "On the cheek. It was barely one second." He added sternly, "That was it." Arthur attempted to stare his manservant down as a mischievous smirk played across Merlin's face.

"Fine," Arthur finally surrendered. He sat down at the table and started to tuck in. Merlin set about clearing up various serving dishes left from the previous night. The king watched him and after several minutes of silence spoke as if to himself. "I guess you can't believe everything you hear."

"What did you hear?" Merlin asked, not fully concentrating on the conversation as he attempted to lift a stack of precariously balanced tableware.

"Not much really," Arthur murmured through a mouthful of ham. He swallowed and eyed-up his next forkful. "Only… there's a rumour going around that you're sharing a bed."

An almighty clatter rang out through room as the plates in Merlin's arms fell suddenly to the floor. Amused surprise played across the king's face. The horrified look on Merlin's face was amplified by the speed with which he blushed from ear to ear. Arthur set down his cutlery and stood. Gripping Merlin firmly by the shoulders and not even trying to hide his enjoyment, Arthur comforted his friend.

"It's alright, Merlin. Although," he said, looking down fake thoughtfulness, "pre-marital relations _are_ a sackable offence…" Finally picking up that Arthur was only trying to wind him up Merlin gave the king an exasperated look and extracted himself from his master's grip. He set about collecting the discarded plates. Arthur sat back at the table. "Well, is it true?"

"No. She sleeps on my floor."

"On your floor?"

"She refused to take the bed."

"Well at least one of you has morals," Arthur muttered. Merlin gave Arthur his best shut-up-you-prat look from where he was knelt the floor.

"Nothing's going on," he said firmly. "We're just friends."

"And I'm going to unite Albion," Arthur laughed. Merlin almost joined him in irony.

Before he could make a retort the door sung open and Iellwen entered the room. Closing the door behind her, she turned to face them.

"Sorry, sire, I just came to collect… the laundry," she said unsurely. Merlin looked awkwardly to the jug in his hand and he felt Arthur's gaze turn to him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Arthur replied, "Not at all. You may continue with your duties." Merlin could hear the smile in his voice and gritted his teeth. Iellwen curtsied and hurried into the bed chamber. A few seconds later she returned with a basket of clothes. Merlin glanced up for long enough to see the questioning look on Iellwen's face before looking back down at his hands. He heard the door shut.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all."

Merlin could very easily have clobbered Arthur around the head.

XXX

A few hours and a great number of breathing exercises later, Merlin stood side by side with Iellwen in the great hall, watching Arthur pace back and forth.

"He's still said nothing?" he asked.

"Not since I told you about ten seconds ago," Gwaine replied flatly. Arthur didn't even notice.

"It doesn't make sense," Arthur said. "I want him guarded as closely as possible. No one is to enter the dungeons without my express permission."

"Yes, sire." Gwaine gave a small bow and left the hall with Sir Leon and Sir Elyan in tow. Silently, the king indicated for his advisors to leave and they quickly dissipated, leaving behind an air of tense uncertainty.

Arthur turned to Iellwen.

"How is the girl?"

"Comfortable, my lord," she said reluctantly. "It seems she has not experienced any long-lasting effects of her ordeal." Arthur nodded, his fingers pressed firmly to his lips.

"Does she have any insight into what he may be planning?"

"None that she reports, sire."

"See if you can get anything out of her. At this point the slightest bit of information may have a significant bearing on the situation. Go gently though, the poor girl has been through enough as it is."

XXX

"Get off me!" Kiana screeched.

"Talk." Iellwen pinned her sister back on to floor with a thud.

"You're hurting me!"

"Am I?" Iellwen asked dryly through gritted. "Terribly sorry." Kiana replied with a dirty look.

"I'm not telling you anything," she snarled. Iellwen tightened her grip on the girl's forearms and watched as the poorly masked pain seeped into Kiana's eyes.

"Don't think that I won't break your arms." Iellwen leaned forward to whisper into Kiana's ear. "I will break every bone in your body, one by one, if I have to. It would be my pleasure."

With their chests pressed closely together she could feel the younger girl's breathing and heartrate slow.

"Father was right about you."

Iellwen drew back. "What are you talking about?"

"You could never muster the power to wield the staff," she said quietly. "You're weak. You let your heart rule you-"

"At least I have a heart."

"You will lose all of your power, all of your ambition, until one day all it will take to disarm you is a single blow to the heart. You're a pathetic, snivelling mess who is so blind to her own feelings that you can't even see-"

With a swift blow to the head Kiana's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she became silent.

"Do stop wittering," Iellwen muttered in annoyance. Climbing off her sister's unconscious body, the priestess wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. "Well that was easier than I thought it would be."

"What the hell have you done?!" Iellwen spun around to find Merlin stood dumbstruck in the doorway.

"We were just having a little chat."

"I can see where you hit her!" Merlin exclaimed as he closed the door behind himself.

"Yes. That'll bruise nicely," she replied as she turned back to admire her handiwork. Merlin gave her an exasperated look. "I was proving to her that brains will always trump brawn."

"Looks like you were both."

"Thank you." Merlin rolled his eyes at her and Iellwen shrugged.

"Did you at least make some progress?" he asked.

"She mentioned the staff."

"Do you think that's why they're here?"

"I don't know." Iellwen paused. "Does Arthur store magical artefacts in the castle?" Merlin looked her squarely in the eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me. You honestly think that Arthur would have kept a great big wooden stick instead of just using it for firewood?"

"No, but he might have kept the key to finding the great big wooden stick if it was sparkly and important enough."

There was only one way to find out.


	14. The Vault

Chapter 14 – The Vault

After careful planning, Merlin and Iellwen, with the counsel of Gaius, decided that raiding the vault was probably best done at night. Merlin spent the majority of the day in the freezing cold assisting the knights and their king with battle drills. The queen insisted on watching, as she did frequently, and before long quite a crowd of noble ladies followed suit. Amongst their party was Iellwen who, despite Gwen's protests, sat humbly at her queen's feet and stoked the fire in front of them.

Merlin watched her from across the field. Her dark hair glimmered in the winter sunlight and appeared to have streaks of gold running through it. She was in animated conversation with the queen and gesticulated wildly as Gwen laughed. She really was a fantastic actress, Merlin thought. He paused for a second. How would he know which Iellwen was the real one: the priestess or the maid? He still had so many questions. They had barely had time to think since the kerfuffle at Yule. Everything had been going so smoothly up until then. The… kiss had confused him. It hadn't happened again and in a way Merlin was glad of it. He could justify the first one. It was the mistletoe. That was the only reason.

"See anything you like?" Gwaine asked pointedly. Merlin dropped the armour that he had gathered in his arms in surprise and scrambled to pick it up again.

"What?"

"What were you staring at?"

"Nothing," Merlin replied, collecting the last of the armour and placing it on the table next to him.

"Not Luned, then?"

"What?" Merlin snorted instantly. "Why would I want to stare at her?" Gwaine shrugged his shoulders as he meandered over to the table.

"No reason. She is very beautiful though."

"Is she?" Merlin said with poorly forced nonchalance.

"Surely you've noticed?" Gwaine replied. When Merlin shrugged his shoulders the knight smirked. He copied the servant's actions. "Oh well." The mysteriousness caught Merlin's curiosity.

"What?"

"Well, if you don't want her, I guess she's mine for the taking."

XXX

"I am _so_ sorry."

"Merlin, stop apologising and just give me the cloth," Gwaine said with a good-humoured smile. Taking the rag from the servant's outstretched hand he held it to his nose and tried to mop up most of the blood.

"I didn't mean to," Merlin continued anxiously, dithering about uselessly as the knights around him watched in amusement. "I didn't think I'd actually get you."

"Really, Merlin, I'm quite impressed."

"What's going on?" Merlin spun around to see Arthur approaching, sword in hand. The young warlock open his mouth to speak but Gwaine beat him to it.

"Merlin punched me."

Arthur look to Merlin, then to Gwaine and then back again. After a pause he spoke again.

"What's _really_ going on?" he asked. Merlin felt himself turn a deep shade of scarlet and he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"Merlin punched me," Gwaine repeated, briefly examining the blood-stained rag before pressing it back against his nose.

"Ha!" the king laughed. "Why?"

"None of your business," Merlin muttered. Arthur looked to Gwaine. The knight shrugged.

"Fine," Arthur said eventually. "I suppose you're just in a fighting mood."

Merlin shrugged. "Perhaps I am."

"Good," Arthur said with a smile. "You can be my next opponent."

"Wait – wha-? " Merlin barely had time to voice his surprise.

A sword flew out of nowhere and with sheer luck he caught it at the hilt. A loud chorus of jeering erupted from the gathered knights as Arthur made his way out to the field. Merlin followed him reluctantly. He could see the ladies gathered by the small fire begin to chatter amongst themselves but all he could see was the concerned look on Gwen's face and Iellwen shaking her head in what seemed like pity.

"What an idiot," she muttered, jabbing the fire austerely. Not exactly filled with confidence, Merlin decided that his best bet was bargaining.

"Arthur this is stupid, can't we just-" he started. He never got to finish.

The king swung his sword and Merlin only just ducked in time. It seemed bargaining was not going to work. Arthur swung again and this time Merlin brought his sword up to parry the move. The swords rung out loudly and Merlin deflected Arthur's sword. Huh. Maybe he was getting the hang of swordplay.

One minute later the young warlock lay flat on his back in the middle of the field. He was fairly sure he had bruised every inch of his body, but he couldn't actually move enough to find out. He looked up to see Arthur stood above him, a bemused look on his face.

"I think that's enough for one day, don't you?" he said, prodding Merlin gently with the end of his sword. The manservant moaned in pain and Arthur nodded to two nearby knights. He spoke as he made his way back to the castle, "See to my armour, would you."

Two sets of sturdy arms lifted Merlin and set him on his feet and he tottered unsurely for a second before finding what was left of his balance.

"What was that about?" Iellwen asked brusquely. Merlin tried his best not to blush.

"Nothing," he muttered, "just a misunderstanding." She watched him intently as he moved cautiously to pick up the trail of discarded armour that Arthur had left behind. He winced in pain as he stretched out his arm and Iellwen swatted it away and lifted the breastplate herself.

"You need something for the pain. You can't work like this."

Iellwen insisted on taking Merlin back to Gaius to be checked over. Still embarrassed, and sincerely hoping that Gwaine wasn't being a blabbermouth, the young warlock remained in stubborn silence for the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately, Iellwen had her own duties so spent very little of that time with him. They were only reunited when the night came and the royal couple went to bed, leaving them free to explore the castle vault.

XXX

The vault guard fell to the ground with a solid thump and Merlin sighed.

"I said 'don't knock him out'."

"I didn't," Iellwen protested as she climbed over the man's body and examined the lock on the steel gate. "I put him to sleep." She muttered an enchantment and the gate swung open.

"I really hope you mean temporarily," Merlin murmured as he followed the priestess through the open doorway and into the vault.

"Impressive." Iellwen admired the chaotic arrangement of artefacts before them. Somehow managing to get his foot caught, Merlin crashed into Iellwen's back.

"Urgh, what a mess."

The elf looked at him incredulously. "Have you seen the state of your room?"

"Our room," he corrected, moving past her and into the centre of the vault.

The walls were coated in rickety wooden shelves which, in turn, were covered in various odds and ends. Merlin could hardly identify a single one. In the light of the torches several things glittered and glowed and Merlin wondered if Iellwen too could feel the incredible power that pulsed through the room. There was a scuttling noise from somewhere behind them and they both whipped around to find the source.

"A rat?" Iellwen suggested unsurely. Merlin shuddered.

"I really hope so." As they turned back to the humongous task at hand the manservant sighed deeply. "How are we supposed to find anything in here? Do we even know what we're looking for?"

"Not exactly." Merlin turned to look at his friend.

"It's a yes or no answer."

Iellwen glared at him and answered through gritted teeth. "No." They looked back to the vault.

"Are you sure your mother said it was a key?"

"My mother never told me anything, she wasn't allowed to," Iellwen said. "All I know is through old stories and rumours. It is said that the key guides the owner to the staff's resting place."

"But the key could be anything."

"True." Merlin began sifting through objects laid out on tables with his free hand.

"Could it literally be a key?" he asked, examining what looked like a ball of moss.

"Well, the staff has been wielded by many men and each would have his own place to hide it. None would share a key," Iellwen said carefully.

"So it couldn't be a map then," Merlin added, "the same logic would apply."

"Not a map," she agreed.

Again the pair fell into silence. This was hopeless, Merlin thought. They had no clue what this 'key' was and even if they did, how were they going to find it in this mess? The warlock looked up as one of the shelves above him creaked threateningly. Behind him he could hear Iellwen searching through the chaos. He paced down further inside the vault and wandered into the far left corner. Crumbling books and ancient manuscripts were piled high and crammed onto every shelf. Merlin picked one up and turned it over in his hand. 'Black Magic'. Out of curiosity he flicked it open. None of the words were even legible anymore, the ink had worn away.

"How can there be a key to something than does not remain in the same place?" Iellwen muttered. Something shiny caught Merlin's eye and he slid his torch into a bracket on the wall. The priestess continued thinking aloud, "There must be some way to track it. Perhaps an incantation that leads to it? Maybe the words are in one of these books…" Iellwen moved to stand near Merlin, gazing up at the wall in front of them. "It could take years to go through all of these." Merlin held before him a plate of bronze, barely the size of his hand. He examined it carefully as the young priestess muttered on, more to herself than to him. He looked at the small dial that seemed to point off to his right. He rotated it. Still it pointed right. It was a compass. Merlin frowned.

"This compass…" he murmured.

Iellwen didn't hear him. "But surely an incantation would be documented elsewhere as well; it would seem ridiculous to have only one copy. No, that mustn't be it…" Merlin spoke louder this time.

"Iellwen, look at this compass." The priestess fell silence and came to his side. She looked blankly at it.

"What about it?"

"Does nothing strike you as odd?"

"No, why should it?"

"This compass – it isn't pointing north."

They looked at each other blankly for a second before she wrenched it out of his hands and inspected it closer.

"Look, Merlin," said Iellwen as she pointed to a faded Elvish inscription along the side of the bronze plate. "It reads, ' _The Staff of Mourie lieth before, wield it false and live no more_ '."

"This is it!" Merlin cried happily. "We found it!"

"We found it," Iellwen repeated in shock. She looked from the compass up to Merlin. "Merlin, you're a genius."

"Well…" he started, grinning from ear to ear. He was about to continue with a sarcastic remark but something about the way the priestess was looking at him made him stop. As if controlled by some other force he lifted his hand to her cheek. She stared blankly back as he moved towards her, pressing his forehead to hers. He could hear them both breathing heavily as their noses touched.

"We should leave before the guard wakes," Iellwen whispered.

"We should."

Neither of them moved.

"We should go," the girl repeated. Merlin nodded. Iellwen pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Sorry," Merlin said quickly, taking a swift step backwards. Iellwen frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Iellwen paused briefly. "We need to leave." She took her torch from the wall bracket, "If this is what Barathon came to Camelot for then it is only a matter of time before he searches the vault himself. He can never know that we were here." Her dress billowing out behind her, Iellwen strode towards the gate.

Merlin breathed deeply. Oh boy.


	15. He's Gone

Chapter 15 – He's Gone

Shortly before the break of dawn the bells rang out loudly over Camelot. From her window, Guinevere could see the knights and guards running backwards and forward across the courtyard in panic. Courtiers and lower townsmen alike watched in confusion. It was one of the things she enjoyed greatly about now being part of Camelot's inner circle – she always found out what the bells were for. The queen wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she turned from the window.

"Luned?"

"Yes, my lady?" the young maid replied as she appeared around the corner, tidying her white linen bonnet.

"Find out what the bells are for."

Luned curtsied. "Of course, my lady."

"Oh and Luned," Gwen called. The maidservant stopped at the door, "Do stop curtsying." They smiled at each other and Luned nodded.

In truth Gwen still found having a maid difficult. She hated asking for things to be done for her and would much rather join Luned in her duties than sit back and watch. Her young maid, however, had no qualms about being firm with her mistress and consistently reprimanded the queen for attempting to participate in servants' work. Luned, although often brusque and stoic, had what Gwen would call a good heart. She was a good listener and was able to offer a stunning quality of insight. She was never surprised by anything that the queen had to say and showed intense, unwavering loyalty. It was nice to have a friend once more.

Luned was just about to open the door when Merlin came crashing through, straight into the maid's arms. They regarded each other with alarm and after a certain amount of bobbing, apologising and awkward laughing, all of which Gwen found rather amusing, Merlin finally made his way towards the queen.

"Arthur has sent me to make sure that you're safe," he explained. "Barathon has escaped." Both women considered Merlin with deep concern.

"What of the girl?" Gwen asked. She watched as the young man glanced at Luned almost guiltily before replying.

"She's gone too."

"How?" Luned queried. "Guards were posted outside her rooms, night and day."

"They were found dead this morning, after Barathon disappeared." Gwen shook her head.

"How terrible," she said quietly, looking back to the courtyard as Merlin left. She could now see her husband striding through the crowd that had gathered, shouting orders to his men as hurried back up the steps and into the castle.

XXX

Arthur threw open the doors to the council chambers, not blinking an eye as they bounced back violently against the wall. Merlin followed closely at his heel.

"I want every house in Camelot searched," ordered the king as he reached the centre of the room.

"My lord," Mordred objected, "Barathon is a powerful sorcerer. He could easily change both his own appearance and that of the girl."

Sir Elyan added, "He may not even be in Camelot any more. The guards had not checked on Barathon in hours and Gaius said that the men outside Kiana's room had been dead a good while when Sir Percival found them this morning."

The king gritted his teeth and shook his head. "I want the prison guards who were on duty last night brought to me-"

"Arthur-" Elyan protested.

"No. They are responsible for this." Arthur turned to face the throne. The hall fell silent and Mordred and Elyan looked to each other. All were aware of the king's temper and his eagerness to seek retribution. Sir Elyan stepped forward.

"Could they have stopped him?" asked the king's brother-in-law. Arthur turned to face him. Merlin could see that his face had softened. There was a certain way that Elyan talked that made it difficult to refuse him and harder still to doubt his reasoning. Arthur sighed and hung his head, using one hand to wipe his eyes.

"You are right, Elyan."

"Should we still search the city?" Mordred asked.

"There is little hope for the poor girl now," Arthur said, "but we must still try." The youngest knight nodded his understanding and together he and Sir Leon exited the hall, along with several stray noblemen.

Soon only Arthur, Merlin and Elyan remained.

"You believe the girl to be abducted sire?"

"What other explanation is there?" Arthur told his knight. Merlin looked to his feet. He hated saying nothing.

"But then why come willingly to Camelot and then escape after two nights?" Elyan questioned. "It makes no sense."

"When does anything in Camelot make sense?"

Oh Arthur, Merlin thought to himself. If only you knew.

XXX

Merlin, Gaius and Iellwen sat pensive at the table. All three looked at the compass.

"What are you going to do with it?" Gaius asked, picking it up gingerly to examine it. Merlin glanced at Iellwen before speaking.

"It would lead us straight to the staff." He looked directly at the priestess this time, hoping to find the answer waiting in her eyes. She looked emotionlessly back. He hated it when she did that. "We could possess the Staff of Mourie."

"But at what cost?" Merlin could not answer his guardian. The three sat in silence again.

Merlin watched Gaius turn the compass in his hands.

"We could protect the kingdom," he said quietly.

"Or destroy it." The men looked to Iellwen. It was the first time she had spoken since Merlin had left her with the queen and her voice was slightly hoarse with disuse. He studied her face carefully but she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the table. As he began to frown she turned her gaze from her hands where they lay clasped on the table. "The Staff of Mourie is too powerful for either of us."

"But we could use it for good," Merlin protested.

"Suppose it falls into the wrong hands. You cannot guard it night and day for the rest of your life, Merlin," said Gaius. He placed the compass back on the table.

"So we destroy it."

"No," Iellwen said with a shake of her head, "let me return it to my mother. She will know what to do with it."

"We could keep it here? I could hide it," Merlin suggested. The elven priestess raised an eyebrow. She stood and dusted down her tatty emerald dress.

"The temptation would be too great, and you don't exactly have the best track record with temptation."

Iellwen made her way across the room and set about washing her hands in a small basin. He wished that he had a legitimate argument to make, but he knew that she was right. No one, no matter their intentions, could wield the staff safely. Merlin sighed deeply. As he returned his gaze to the table, he caught Gaius' eye and quickly wished that he hadn't. The physician raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips in a poorly disguised smile. Merlin turned a deep shade of red and coughed uncomfortably.

"Oh, and Gaius, before I forget," Iellwen said as she dried her hands, "the Queen asked for you to pay her a visit." Gaius tore his gaze from Merlin reluctantly.

"Might I ask why?"

"Of course."

After several seconds of expectant silence, Gaius continued. "Why?"

"It is not my place to say." The physician regarded Iellwen with slight bafflement before spurning himself into action.

"Then I shall go to her immediately." He collected his medicine bag from the cupboard and glancing at Merlin with the sternest look he could muster, he left the room.

Merlin turned his attention to Iellwen.

"Is she alright?" The priestess frowned at him questioningly. "The Queen?"

"Oh. Well, Gaius shall be the judge of that."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the Court Physician. It's his job." Iellwen shook her head. "Honestly, Merlin, it's as if your mind is elsewhere."

**Author's Note:**

> I am a busy NHS worker and do shift work so please bear with me in terms of uploading chapters. My aim is at least one chapter a month!


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